


My Life as a Teenage Gladiator

by lizthestarfish



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, F/M, Gaslighting, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sci-Fi, mage-punk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 91,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21778882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizthestarfish/pseuds/lizthestarfish
Summary: No good deed goes unpunished. When Lavender Brown's name is pulled from the Goblet of Fire, her life is flipped upside down. Why did this happen, and who did it, and can she stop fighting with Hermione Granger long enough to save her own life? At the same time, Draco Malfoy is beginning to uncover a sinister plot of his own, and is starting to figure out just how monstrous his father really is.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	1. AKA Rats are Awful

_Massive double doors opened with a loud creak. Upon opening, they revealed the Great Hall basked in the warm glow of thousands of floating candles floating underneath a high vaulted ceiling bewitched to look like the night sky. Four long tables ran the length of the hall and sat hundreds of other students, while the teachers, along with the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, sat and looked down upon the newly arrived first years. Next to her she could hear a bushy haired girl whispering to two boys while they filed down the middle of the hall._

_This was Hogwarts._

_Tonight was the night her journey began._

_At the podium Professor McGonagall began calling names for students to be sorted into the four Houses. Below, Lavender waited with baited breath. She was so excited- she could barely hear the names being called._

_"Brown, Lavender!"_

_It was her name. She paused for a moment, looking dumbly at Professor McGonagall until Parvati Patil poked her in her ribs. Lavender blinked and tried to ignore the pounding against her chest as she walked up to Professor McGonagall. Everyone was watching her with anticipation in their eyes. Lavender's hands shook, and all she wanted to do was run away. However, instead of fleeing, she steeled herself; she didn't want to disappoint the older, stern faced witch._

_There was a stool on the podium in the Great Hall. When Lavender sat down she looked up, and just before the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, she could see the Leo constellation through the enchanted ceiling. Then the hat fell over her head, and she saw only blackness against the old, and slightly musty smelling, hat._

_"Well, well, well… What have we here?" said a voice that whispered as if were right next to her ear. "Hmmm… Now where are we to put you? Not cunning enough for Slytherin, nor driven enough for Ravenclaw..."_

I want to be in Gryffindor! _Lavender thought to herself. If she concentrated hard enough, she could imagine scenes of knights fighting dragons in glistening armour, and princesses dancing in her thoughts. Glory, honor, nobility. She had grown up on fantastical stories that her mother and father would read to her at night, and it was what raced through her mind now. Wouldn't Gryffindor just be splendid?_

_"Well, you're certainly bold enough!" The hat exclaimed. It gave a small tut before continuing, "But you're also diligent, and quite loyal if you work at it. Surely a different house wouldn't satisfy you? You'd be far happier in Hufflepuff."_

No! _Lavender closed her eyes, thinking as hard as she could. She practically screamed her protest in her head. There was unspoken truth in her head. Glory is never given to Hufflepuff._

_"Glory is never just given to anyone, little Lionheart. But if you're certain…"_

**Chapter One: In Which a Rat Starts the Butterfly Effect**

Mountains of Gryffindor scarves glared red and gold at Lavender as she shopped in Madame Malkins, hunting down her accessories for the year. She grabbed a couple and then went to find more exciting additions for her wardrobe that weren't dictated by uniform. Pastel bandanas, velvet scrunchies, colorful choker necklaces, and butterfly barrettes… There was almost too many choices.

No. There was a limited budget- dress robes were not cheap.

After a good thirty minutes of meandering through the shop and browsing their wares, Parvati and Padma finally showed up. Lavender decided to stick with a few new scrunchies, as she was always losing them. She added them to a large stack of Gryffindor robes in her cart next to her, then continued down the aisle taking note of how empty the store was. Hogwarts was starting in two days. By now most stores in Diagon Alley were packed with parents buying last-minute school supplies, but it seemed that the attack at the Quidditch World Cup had scared off most of the crowd.

Lavender didn't blame them. She hadn't personally been at the World Cup, but she had seen the picture of the Dark Mark in the paper. The smoke-like snake slithering through the skull suspended fifty feet in the air had sent a shiver down Lavender's spine that cut straight through her like a knife. Even her father, a Gryffindor like herself, had looked terrified. Regardless, they had decided to venture out to get school supplies, and Lavender had also managed to convince her parents to let her buy her school clothes by herself. Parvati and Padma would be there soon, and they wanted to try on dresses together. They shouldn't let fear ruin the trip, she reasoned.

Her parents hadn't been thrilled, but they compromised by getting most of the supplies together, waiting to separate till the only things left to buy were robes and books, as the shops were right next to each other.

There was a giggle behind her, and when she felt a pinch at her side, Lavender shrieked before coming face to face with Parvati Patil, and her twin sister Padma. They each had a large stack of new uniform packs; Gryffindor and Ravenclaw respectively.

"That was awfully mean!" said Lavender, rubbing at the sore spot on her side.

"I have every confidence you'll get me back," said Parvati, swinging a long plait over her shoulder.

"Mum and Dad have to stay late at the Ministry again, what with the World Cup fallout. They wanted us to ask if we could stay with you overnight and they would meet us at Kings Cross tomorrow," said Padma, grabbing a couple of Ravenclaw scarves.

"I can ask my parents when we meet up at Magical Menagerie." said Lavender, "But they adore you, and you're already coming over after shopping, so I don't see why not."

Padma beamed, and the two followed Parvati towards racks upon racks of glittery dress robes. "That's great!"

"Oh! Lav, check out this one!" said Parvati in an excited voice from the rack of dress robes. She held out a red silk robe that glowed as if it were on fire in the bright lights of Madame Malkins.

"It's a little on the nose, don't you think?" said Lavender. "I mean, they can be whatever color we want." The fact that red was their houses uniform color went unspoken, and that this was their first chance, possibly only, to branch out and wear whatever they wanted while at school.

"Good point," said Parvati, putting the dress right back. She then grabbed a pastel purple dress with layers of billowing gossamer and tulle. "Oh! What about purple?"

"Parvati, didn't Lavender just mention something about being too on the nose with colors?" laughed Padma as she held a sleek orange dress against her t-shirt.

"Now when did I say a thing about that?" said Lavender, admiring the sparkly fabric, and deciding to try it on. "So what do you think they're for?"

"Gee Lav, maybe a dance?" said Parvati, looking a couple different pink dresses. She found one decorated with lots of lacy flowers and gave a little gasp of delight.

"Well, duh!" said Lavender, rolling her eyes. She held the dress against her. It was a bit large against her small frame, but a fitting would fix that. Pastel purple was on the nose, it was true, but she loved the way it billowed around her frame and matched her blonde hair. Plus, with a light purple eyeshadow to match, standing out against her brown eyes- she would truly feel like a princess. She placed it in her cart and browsed a couple more purple dresses to try on. "But I meant what kind of dance. Do you think it'll be like an end of the year kind, or the spring kind, or maybe even a Christmas kind?"

"Five galleons says it's end of the year." said Parvati, grabbing a bright yellow silk robe.

"Christmas, obviously, " scoffed Padma, "Mum and dad booked a cruise around the Mediterranean, so we're staying over break instead of going home."

"Bollocks," said Parvati, "Well, they were hinting that there was going to be some big summer event."

"So I suppose that leaves me spring?" said Lavender while she leaned over her cart to peer at them.

An hour later they had all found dress robes they loved. Lavender ended up choosing the gossamer and tulle purple dress she had first tried on. Once they were fitted correctly and had paid for their purchases, they all filed into Magical Menagerie where Lavender and her parents had agreed to meet.

Upon entering the shop, they found it was lined with cages upon cages of different animals and had a strong musky odor from the numerous critters. To Lavender's delight, there were several adorable kittens there that under normal circumstances would have made her heart burst with joy, but a cage full of far too intelligent rats across from the mewling calicos freaked her out too much for her to enjoy herself. They stared at her with beady little eyes and just generally ruined the whole experience. Rats were awful enough, but these ones reminded her far too much of Ron Weasley's rat, Scabbers.

Words could not describe how glad she was when, at the end of last year while cradling and heaping love on her cat, Crookshanks, Hermione assured her that Scabbers would not be returning this year.

She was grateful when her parents finally arrived to take them back to their home in Dartford. By the end of the night, she had completely forgotten about the awful rats and was laughing as Padma spoke in vivid detail about a summer romance with a Parisian wizard she and Parvati had met while in France with their parents.

"He kissed me when we left. And you know what he did?" said Padma, grinning with a wicked glint in her eyes. Crickets sang as they relaxed in the cool night air in the porch garden.

"What?" said Lavender, her eyes widening to the size of galleons as she bent over with anticipation.

"He stuck his tongue in my mouth!" squealed Padma while Parvati choked and her eyes bogged out.

"No way!" said Lavender, gasping as a thrill raced through her.

"No fair! You never told me that!" Parvati admonished, "Did anything else happen that you didn't inform me of?"

"What? No!" said Padma very unconvincingly, "Of course not!"

"Padma!"

"Oh, fine! We might have… snuck out… Nothing happened, we just sat around!"

"Oh my God! Spill Details!"

"Yes!" said Lavender loudly, while Padma blushed and hid her face. "Now!"

"Nothing happened! We just sat and talked! And watched the stars a bit!"

"Parvati, was he cute?" said Lavender to Parvati, who was giggling maniacally.

"Gorgeous. And tall, with jet black hair and eyes as blue as the ocean. And he was older. Turning seventeen in September." said Parvati with a sigh as there was a scuffle from something small hopping in the bushes. "I was green with envy all summer. First summer romance, and now first tongue. Padma, you slag, you're putting me to shame."

This remark earned her a snort and a smack upside the head from Padma. "He wasn't that much older. We're turning fifteen in October. You're being melodramatic."

"I'm going to get some drinks," said Lavender, deciding that such an occasion warranted something sweet and celebratory. Maybe she could sneak some butterbeers out of the kitchen. Leaving Padma and Parvati giggling, she padded softly inside. No one was in the kitchen or dining room, so her parents had likely gone upstairs, a theory that was confirmed when she heard footsteps and giggling from the stairs.

She grabbed three butterbeers from the large cupboard her parents kept in the kitchen, enchanted with stasis and cooling charms, ignoring the shriek from outside, then quietly padded back to the garden door. It was when she opened it that she regretted not paying attention earlier.

A small black shape darted inside, causing Lavender to scream, dash outside, and slam the door closed.

"Shit!" said Padma, "Lav, what'd you let it go inside for?"

Upstairs, a window opened. "Everything okay out there?" said her father's voice, sounding a bit tired.

A quiet fell over the girls. They could tell their parents about the rat, or deal with it themselves. Lavender thought fast and glanced at the tiny rat that was now cowering under the dining room table. At seeing such a small and harmless form, she determined she didn't want to have to admit how she had screamed like a little girl at it, no matter how uneasy it made her.

"We're fine!" said Lavender, "Just goofing off."

"Okay. I want you girls in bed in an hour; we have an early day tomorrow. Just a heads up."

Shit.

Once the window had shut again, she gave the rat another glance before turning to Padma and Parvati, "Any ideas?"

Padma looked at the garden shed and picked up an old Quidditch broom, and two regular brooms. "Eh…"

The plan was simple enough. As spellcasting would likely involve a lot of flashing and banging that they did not want: they decided to try it with brooms. Parvati and Padma would sneak inside from the front door, while Lavender guarded the back door. Padma would scare the rat out from under the table with the end of one broom, while Parvati bunted the rat to Lavender with an old Cleansweep, who would use an ancient looking broomstick to ensure the rat wound up outside.

A foolproof plan, in Lavender's opinion. Nothing could go wrong.

That is, until Parvati and Padma came back.

"Front door is locked, and our Alohamora would set off your parents wards," said Padma, holding the watering can under her arm.

Parvati leaned on the broom, glancing at the rat that was still cowering under the table. "Aww… he's just a baby."

"She," said Padma, "No balls. Rats have huge ones."

Lavender shuddered, "Can we please just figure out another plan?"

"Bum rush it?" said Parvati, then passed her broom to Padma. She headed into the garden shed and came out holding a large metal bucket. "You two scare it out. If it doesn't run away when we go in, we'll pass it to each other like a muggle hockey puck, and I'll trap it with the bucket."

"And if it does?" said Lavender as she suppressed a shudder.

"You cover right, Padma you cover left." said Parvati, "I'll try to catch it if it heads towards me."

The air felt thick with apprehension as Parvati quickly opened the door, and then stepped to the side in case the rat darted forward, allowing Lavender to charge in and take the right side. Seeing her, the rat darted left as Padma ran in and used the broom to hit the rat towards Lavender who squealed and used her own broom to keep it from running further into the house. She fervently swept the squealing juvenile towards Parvati, who slammed the bucket down on top.

"Did you get it?" said Padma in a very shrill voice, bouncing on the balls of her feet, and holding the broom threateningly.

"Yup!" said Parvati triumphantly, holding the bucket over the rat, but there was no noise. It was completely still.

There was a pause where the same collective thought ran through each of the girls' heads, and she suddenly felt very paranoid. But she hadn't seen the rat run away, so it must be under the bucket.

"Uhh…" said Parvati nervously. She got down a little lower, and pulled the bucket up just far enough to look underneath it. "Oh no!"

"Oh god, we're going to die!" said Lavender with horror at the thought of the horrid creature running amok in her home.

"I think it's dead!" said Parvati, "She's not moving. Lav, you go get your wand. Or your dad. I'll move her outside."

"Oh…" said Lavender, feeling a bit of unexpected sadness and guilt at the thought of hurting the rat. She ran upstairs while Padma and Parvati edged the bucket towards the open door. For a second, she thought about getting her father but decided to grab her wand instead. While she was still underage, the Trace wouldn't register as both her parents were magical, and Lavender still didn't want to admit she had let a rat get into the house. She had learned Episkey last year, after learning that her baby rabbit, Binky, had been mauled by a fox.

She came down and found Padma and Parvati huddled over a small crate that had also been in the garden shed.

Binky's old carry crate.

Binky had been a rather small rabbit, a Netherland Dwarf (and a baby one at that), so her crate was also rather small, and the wiring was tight enough that it would also contain the rat.

Lavender bit her lip and picked at her nails as she examined it with a conflicted heart. The baby rat was a foul, but pitiable sight. It limped in a tiny shuddering huddle, with it's right leg bent at a horrific angle.

Guilt gnawed inside her. She had done that. The rat was terrible, but ultimately the worst thing it had done was trespasse. It didn't deserve a broken leg.

"Episkey!" said Lavender, waving her wand. There was a sharp crack when the leg snapped back in place, healing it instantly. The rat stopped limping, and perked up a bit, staring at Lavender with wide, curious eyes. There was a ring of white around them that Lavender had not noticed before that spoke to possible domestic origins. The large ears that were nearly the size of it's head confirmed it.

"Oh my god," said Parvati with a squeal, "Look at those ears! They're massive! How adorable are they?"

"Not adorable at all," said Lavender, shoving down the urge to agree, then picking up the crate to release the rat far away from her house.

"Ron would probably go ballistic over her." said Parvati, "He seemed very distraught when he lost Scabbers."

The remark stopped Lavender in her tracks when she remembered how upset Ron had been. While she felt hardly any sympathy for Scabbers, she had felt awful for the boy who lost his pet. Having lost Binky, it was a pain she knew all too well.

Perhaps it was the feeling of butterflies in her stomach at the thought of Ron's delighted smile or the warm feeling that spread in her chest when she even thought his name, but Lavender considered keeping the awful, horrible, no-good rat. If she could put up with it for just one night, she could bring the rat to Hogwarts and Ron would finally notice her.

She studied the rat as it stayed huddled in the far corner of the carry crate. Like the rats at Magical Menagerie it made Lavender uneasy, but it's stare didn't make the hairs on her neck stand up like Scabbers had.

She set the cage on the porch and ran in the garden shed to grab a water bottle Binky had used and hooked it into the carrier. Having taken care of that, she went inside to grab a few baby carrots and a slice of ham from their Stasis Cupboard so that the rat wouldn't get hungry. She would have to figure out a way to hide her from her parents before they got on the Hogwarts Express, but that would be fine.

This would be fine. She could handle a rat in her room for one night. She was a Gryffindor, and anything was possible if you were bold enough.


	2. Hermione Disapproves

_The morning after her sorting was bright and cheerful. She was roommates with Parvati, as well as Hermione Granger, the bushy-haired girl. The three of them had only just met yesterday, but Lavender was positive that it was only a matter of time before all three of them were best friends! No one could resist her charm and cheer!_

_She was so happy and excited. She felt like she might fly-away into the air as she hopped and skipped down to breakfast. She giggled like a maniac as she sat down next to Parvati who looked stunningly regal with her long dark hair plaited down her back and a lace headband pulling back any loose hair, and showing off her amber-colored eyes._

_Parvati beamed, opening her mouth to talk, but then a ginger-haired First Year who was sorted into Gryffindor last night along with them sat down. Ron Weasley. Next to him was none other than Harry Potter. It was almost a bit unbelievable that Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, was in her House as well. He was a bit scrawnier than she had imagined him to be, but it was still exciting. She couldn't help but stare rudely at the lightning bolt scar on his forehead for a moment before Ron coughed._

_"Hi," said Ron, giving her and Parvati a small smile. Harry said nothing, just slumped over and picked a bit guardedly at his food._

_"Hello!" said Lavender, trying to make up for her rudeness. "I'm Lavender Brown, and this is Parvati Patil! We're friends." Then to Parvati who was goggling a bit at Harry, "That correct, right? Aren't we friends?"_

_"Hm? Oh, yes! We're definitely friends!" said Parvati excitedly._

_"Er…" said Ron, raising his eyebrows at them. A small head of brown hair poked out of Ron's robes just then, sniffing the air as it took in the smells of sausage and eggs. "Scabbers! I told you to stay put. I'll give you food in just a moment."_

_But Scabbers just continued to crawl up onto Ron's shoulder, perching there and waiting expectantly. Ron shook his head, muttering to himself and handed the rat a piece of sausage._

_"I thought we weren't allowed to bring anything that isn't an owl, cat, or toad," said Parvati, her eyes widening at the sight of the scruffy brown rat. Lavender squirmed a bit. She had an undying love for all critters, large or small, but this particular rat made her uneasy. Though it looked scruffy and harmless, it stared at her with beady black eyes that seemed to hide a secret intelligence as it chewed on the sausage._

_Ron shrugged, "It never says that we can't bring something else." Then he frowned, "Wish I could have an owl, though. Scabbers is a useless animal."_

_"He must be old, though," said Parvati._

_"Ancient. He's at least ten."_

_Ten. Lavender herself had a hamster that she had to leave at home, and she knew from the rodent booklet her mother had bought her that rats usually lived less than three years. Ten was far from average. Scabbers continued his staring and Lavender bit her lip, trying hard to hide her unease. Ron fed Scabbers some egg and scratched one of the rat's ears. It seemed to him the rat was nothing more than a hopeless but cherished pet._

_There was a creak. Harry was leaving the Great Hall as more and more students began taking notice of him. Upon examining the empty spot the scrawny boy left Lavender saw that his plate was licked practically clean._

_"He's a bit shy…" said Ron with a bit of a wince._

_The rest of the day passed in a blur as they started their classes. But the uneasiness at breakfast continued to follow Lavender like a shadow. Throughout the weeks that followed, she could never shake the anxiety Scabbers had given her. The rat's beady eyes haunted her sleep, her dreams, and there were times she thought she saw him in the corner of her eyes while she walked through the halls at Hogwarts._

_But it wasn't until a blustery night near the beginning of her Second Year that her fears were confirmed. The shock of thunder woke her up from a particularly awful nightmare where she kept trying to close a door, but couldn't. It stayed open, no matter how many times she attempted to shut it._

_Lightning flashed, illuminating the room and Lavender saw Scabbers sitting on her bedside table. She shrieked and backed away as Scabbers started to run as well. Then a surge of bushy hair started to attack him with a pillow._

_"Out! Out!" said Hermione with a voice that commanded authority, as Lavender sank gratefully back into bed. After Scabbers was successfully banished, she growled to herself and crossed her arms. "I need to get a cat."_

_Though she could not yet find the ability to voice it, Lavender let out a breath that she hoped made her agreement clear._

_"Hear hear!" said Parvati in a sleep-drunk voice from the corner. Lavender let out a giggle and gathered her blanket, changing from her bed to Parvati's who protested a bit before making room. "Fine. Good lord, Lavender. It's only a rat."_

**Chapter Two: In Which Hermione is Not Amused**

"It's just a rat," whispered Lavender, clutching a fluffy pink bed cave that used to belong to her dear departed Binky. She set some felt scraps in it, then opened the latch of the crate. It was simple: quickly put the bed cave inside the crate, then quickly withdraw her hand, and close the latch once again. Then the rat would have a nice comfy bed, instead of a cold metal floor. She, Parvati and Padma had all moved up to her room to get the rat some bedding and hide it until they were on the Hogwarts Express the next day.

"Lav… I can put the bedding in her crate," said Parvati, smoothing her nightgown as Lavender continued to stare at the metal crate that held the small baby rat. Though Parvati did not voice it, Lavender could hear a twinge of impatience. They were all tired and were supposed to go to bed hours ago.

"No. I can do it. It's just a rat."

"Alright."

Steeling herself, Lavender bent down and reached towards the latch, then retreated her hand when the rat made a sudden movement. "Maybe you can just open the cage?" said Lavender anxiously.

In one swift motion, the cage was opened, the bed cave was swiftly placed, the rat hid inside of it, and the latch was secured; Lavender then stowed the crate in her trunk, with the lid open just a crack so that the rat could breathe.

She tried to sleep after that, but no matter what she did, she couldn't stop the sensation of eyes watching her. She tossed and turned until she heard Parvati sigh and crawled into her bed.

"It's my boggart," said Lavender tightly. She was wrong; she couldn't handle this. It didn't matter to her that it was one one-hundredth of a percent of her size and weight. It didn't matter to her that it was locked in a crate in her trunk. It didn't matter to her that it wasn't-

Parvati cupped her hands around Lavender's head, stroking her curly blonde hair with long, delicate fingers that used to make Lavender green with envy. Now, she was grateful for them.

"You defeated your boggart. You're a warrior. You're an Amazon." said Parvati, her unusually calm voice leaving no room for argument and clearing Lavender's head. Parvati didn't lie. Like Hermione, she could be painfully blunt and direct, but she didn't lie.

"I am an Amazon, aren't I."

"Yes," said Parvati, giving a faint giggle. "Now go to sleep."

Lavender closed her eyes. Perhaps it was the warm feeling of being wrapped in Parvati's arms, or maybe it was the reassurance that she was, in fact, strong and brave, but she somehow managed to calm down enough to drift into sleep.

The next morning Lavender was shaken awake by her mother, and practically leapt out of bed when she found out they had just over an hour to get to Kings Cross. As they had far too many people and luggage to Apparate, they had to take a taxi, arriving at Platform 9 ¾'s with barely fifteen minutes to spare.

As Padma and Parvati's luggage had already been put on the train by their parents, they left to hug them goodbye before they had to get on the train. While the Patils were thanking her parents for taking care of their daughters, Lavender snuck the rat crate out of her trunk, hiding it underneath a fluffy purple blanket.

Not only did it hide the rat from her mother, but it also protected the rat from Lavender's view.

"Lavender, sweetheart, what are you carrying?"

Curse her mother's hawk-like eyes.

"My blanket," said Lavender, lying badly. "It's chilly."

Heather Brown raised her eyebrows, blinking very fast and looked altogether very skeptical. But before she could say something the train whistle blew, signaling it was about to leave. So instead, Heather shook her head and motioned for a goodbye hug.

Lavender passed the blanket hidden crate to Parvati and ran to give her mother and father a goodbye hug and kiss.

"Be good sweetheart," said Heather, hugging her so tight that a passerby may not be able to tell their heads apart, given that Heather's hair looked so similar to Lavender's. "You're going to have a lot of fun this year. A lot of exciting things are going to happen!"

Before she got the chance to ask for more details, the train whistled its last warning, and Lavender gave her mother one last kiss goodbye.

"Goodbye, Mum. I love you!" said Lavender, feeling her heart twinge as she leapt onto the train that was starting its journey. She didn't move until Parvati pulled her further into the carriage.

They decided to find a compartment first, given that the train was already so full. It was several hours till Hogwarts. They ducked and weaved their way through the train, trying to find an empty compartment, but were disheartened to see that everywhere they looked was full.

Eventually, they found their way to the back of the train where they hoped that fewer students had settled. Instead, they found Neville Longbottom being accosted by Draco Malfoy.

"Back at Hogwarts, Longbottom?" said Malfoy, his pointed chin high in the air while he blocked the path for Neville. Behind him, Pansy Parkinson giggled, prompting him to continue. "I thought you would have given up on trying to be a wizard by now."

Neville said nothing but just gritted his teeth while a muscle moved in his jaw and tried to shove past Malfoy.

As Parvati was still holding the rat crate, and Padma was behind all of them, Lavender swooped in and shoved Malfoy against the corridor wall.

"Shove off, Malfoy," said Lavender, making Malfoy looked shocked.

"Why not you keep your nose out of other people's business!" hissed Pansy, crossing her arms and stepping in between her and Malfoy who had started scowling. "We were just having a bit of fun."

"Neville's our friend," said Parvati, waving the crate threateningly, "That makes it our business. Now shove off."

Pansy narrowed her eyes and looked like she was about to say something, but Malfoy grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him, smirking.

"Come on; this is boring. Let's go find something else to do."

Standing to the side and looking humiliated, Neville gave them a sullen, "Thanks… He'll probably give me more crap later, though."

"Oh, sorry," said Lavender, "Can't you tell a teacher about it?"

Neville shook his head. "They can't do anything unless they see it happen. Malfoy's not dumb enough to pull stuff in front of anyone who isn't Snape. Besides, I want to be able to solve my own problems."

It was prideful and foolhardy, but glancing at the blanket-covered rat crate that Parvati still held, Lavender could understand. Last night, despite her petrifying fear, she hadn't wanted to accept her father's offer of help. She nodded at Neville, hoping the plump boy wouldn't catch too much grief from Malfoy.

"Don't worry about Malfoy. He won't do anything he hasn't already done. Besides, he's tame compared to Snape." said Neville, then pointed at the rat crate, "So what do you have hidden under there?"

The question seemed to spark life back into the gloomy corridor as all three girls started giggling madly. Neville stared at them, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Er…"

"It's a rat!" said Parvati, "Lavender's going to use her to- mmmph!"

Before Parvati had a chance to say anything about her plan to woo Ron Weasley, Lavender slapped a hand over Parvati's mouth.

"Nothing! Have you seen Ron? I have something important to- Ew! Parvati!" said Lavender, shrieking as she felt a slimy, wet, muscle slide over her palm.

"Serves you right!" said Parvati, then to Neville, "We need to talk to Ron. Have you seen him? Or an empty compartment?"

"Erm…" said Neville, still looking like he was unsure of how to talk to them, then, "Well, Everywhere that I've seen is full, but Ron, Harry, and Hermione usually sit together at the end of the train. They might have room. And if you need to talk to Ron, well you've killed two birds with one stone."

Strangely, the thought of sitting in the same train compartment with Ron made her more nervous than the awful, horrible, rat. Still, sending a glance down the train corridor, towards the hundreds of already filled compartments, Lavender decided they may not have a choice.

So, onwards they went with Neville leading the search. Sure enough, they found Ron lounging with Hermione and Harry in the second to last train car.

Harry seemed to be talking to them, and it struck Lavender that, despite the severe faces they all had, all three of them looked far more relaxed than they did with anyone else. And when she knocked on the compartment door, making all of them jump, Lavender felt almost as if she had committed a crime.

"Hello," said Lavender after she opened the compartment door. She took the rat crate from Parvati and held it out in front of her, hoping it might help distract her from the thousand and one different thoughts swirling through her head as she took in the lovely hand-knitted sweater Ron was wearing and Ron's perfect ginger hair and cornflower blue eyes.

How did her hair look? She hadn't had time to shower, and it was surely matted and tangled.

Did her face look funny? She had been rushed out of the house before she could put on any makeup.

Did her armpits smell? She did get dressed in a hurry.

Ohgodshedidn'tputondeodereant.

So, not only was she not showered, not wearing makeup, and her hair in complete disarray, but her armpits probably smelled too.

"Um… I, um- I like your sweater..." said Lavender, biting her lip as Harry coughed nervously. "Ron- so, I heard from Hermione that… Well, that Crookshanks ate your rat… so… um…"

Deciding to forgo speech, she instead shoved the crate that was still covered in her fluffy purple blanket onto Ron's lap as he gaped at her, probably trying not to vomit at the stench of her smelly armpits. Blushing like crazy she ran out of the compartment, stopping only to look back as Ron peeked under the blanket.

He smiled, and Lavender's heart skipped a beat.

Ron stood up and opened the compartment door, waving to her, still grinning like a fool, but was pulled back by Hermione.

"It's a beautiful rat, Ronald, but we have more important matters to discuss."

The rest of the train ride was quiet as Lavender spent most of the time daydreaming about Ron's smile. Soon, however, she wished she had kept her blanket. The closer they got to Hogwarts, the stormier it got, clouds of thunder looming overhead like a bad omen. Soon they arrived, and the rain was in a full-on downpour as they were climbing into the horseless carriages that would take them to the castle.

Peeves the Poltergeist did not help matters as he started throwing water balloons at the arriving students. Parvati shrieked as she dodged a particularly heavy one, the water spilling over the floor, causing Professor McGonagall to slip as she chased Peeves and nearly garrot Hermione by the throat in an attempt to catch her fall.

"Forgive me Ms. Granger." said Professor McGonagall as Hermione rubbed her neck and nodded.

The students filed into the Great Hall, waiting anxiously for the First Year students to be sorted so that they might begin the feast.

After they had all been seated, Professor McGonagall glided into the Great Hall with the First Years behind her. She carried in her arms the three-legged stool that Lavender herself had sat on, as well as the stuffy old Sorting Hat. One of the First Years was soaked to the bone and wrapped in an old ratted coat. He mouthed a few words at Colin Creevey, beaming as he did so.

Any talking then ceased as Professor McGonagall sat down the three-legged stool, placing the hat atop it and it sang out a song as it did every year. After the song had finished, Professor McGonagall began to sort the First Years into their respective Houses.

"Ackerly, Stewart!"

"Pst, Lavender!" said Ron in a hushed tone from a few places down. He had the rat crate sitting next to him.

"RAVENCLAW!" cried the Hat.

"What?"

"What's her name?" said Ron, pointing at the rat, "And what'd you mean by you liked my sweater?" Lavender stared at him dumbly before directing her attention to a bowl of bitter greens and fiddling with her spoon.

"Ron, shush. We need to pay attention to the sorting." whispered Hermione, and pulling on his robe. Lavender gave an internal cheer. She hadn't thought to provide the rat with a name. Naming it seemed so… personal. It was easier to distance herself from the awful animal if it was just 'It'.

She was beginning to regret even bringing the rat to Ron. Now she would need to spend another god knows how many years living in the same tower with it. Would this one follow her into her dorm as Scabbers had?

She knew in her head that this did not make sense. The rat was nothing like Scabbers; that was evident right from the start. Scabbers had stared at her in a way that caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up- the rat she had brought from home didn't even try to look her in the eyes. If it did, it was because Lavender was looking at its eyes first. It behaved like a normal rat.

Despite this, she was still reluctant to humanize the animal.

She had given it Binky's pink fluffy bed cave; Binky's food bowl; Binky's water bottle… Wasn't that enough?

Yet… Ron's had been so happy on the train when he peaked underneath the blanket. His smile alone had made all the anxiety worth it. The way his skin crinkled under his eyes, and the excitement that brought them to life made her feel like her soul was flying.

She looked at the bowl of bitter greens again before turning back to Ron.

"Sorrel," said Lavender, trying to keep her voice steady, and the blush away that threatened to overtake her face.

Ron gave her an odd look, "That's a weed."

"Yes, well… It's a rat." said Lavender defensively.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

An odd smile crossed Ron's lips and Lavender thought her heart might burst out her chest when he mouthed 'Sorrel' while staring at the rat.

At Sorrel.

Lavender stared at Ron as he fed the rat- as he fed Sorrel food once the feast started. She stared at him through the entire feast, barely noticing Hermione protesting the fact that dinner was made by House Elves. Slave labor, she called it.

No, she could only focus on Ron's delicate fingers carefully poke itty bitty tiny bits of food through the bars of the crate, trying to get a feel for what the- for what Sorrel liked. He even gave her a taste of his spotted dick, which likely wasn't the healthiest food for her, but Sorrel still stole it from him, eagerly hiding it away in Binky's bed cave.

So wrapped up in watching Ron get acquainted with Sorrel was she, that she almost didn't notice that Professor Dumbledore had started his speech.

"...It is my painful duty to inform you the the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" she heard Harry gasp in horror, along with the rest of the Quidditch team. Ron looked miserable at this revelation as well. Dumbledore continued his speech, citing that it was because of an event that would start in October.

"I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

Suddenly there was a roar of thunder that shook the bewitched ceiling, causing a few students to shriek. The doors of the Great Hall banged open.

Between them stood a man that leaned on a tall spindly staff, and enveloped in a black traveling cloak. He held the attention of every student in the Great Hall, as well as the teachers. He began walking up towards the front of the Hall as he lowered his hood, releasing long gray hair.

As he walked, there was a slight wooden 'thunk' on every other step. When he made it up to the teachers' table, there was another flash of lightning that better illuminated his face. Hermione gasped, and Lavender was tempted to join her.

His face was scarred, almost to the point that it almost didn't resemble a human anymore. His mouth seemed to be just a gash in his face, and he was missing a portion of his nose. One of his eyes was false, unblinking as it swiveled around and into the back of his head.

The man shook hands with Dumbledore before taking a seat at an empty spot at the teachers' table.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Professor Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling, "Professor Moody."

There was a pitiable amount of applause. Moody ignored this, merely taking a long draught from a hip flask.

"Moody? Didn't your dad go help him this morning?" Said Harry to Ron in a soft mutter.

"Must be…"

As Dumbledore began his speech again, Parvati leaned over to Lavender, "What do you think happened to his face? Do you think he lost a game of 'Got your Nose'?"

Lavender giggled quietly, only hearing the tail end of Dumbledore speaking.

"...inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're joking!" said one of the Weasley twins in a thunderous voice.

There were a few laughs at this, breaking an invisible thread of tension that had hung over the Hall ever since Moody's arrival. Even Dumbledore laughed.

After attempting to start a joke, but being stopped by a firm cough from Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore continued his speech going into specifics on the TriWizard Tournament. Lavender didn't pay too much attention; while it seemed like an event that would be fun to watch, she never had too much interest in competition sports, preferring to watch the fun from the sidelines.

She had even less interest when Dumbledore revealed that it was discontinued due to a grossly high death toll. Like Quidditch, it seemed this would be a very messy competition filled with lots of blood, gore, and fighting. Plenty of fun for boys, and girls who were into that sort of thing, but not for Lavender. So instead, she picked at her nail polish in a bored manner while she waited for the speech to end.

Strangely, Parvati seemed enthralled.

"I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts Champion." said Dumbledore as he began to end the speech, "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegation from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore then finally sat down and turned to speak to Moody while Lavender rose from her seat with the rest of the student body, joining the swarm through the double doors.

"Aren't you excited?" said Parvati giddily, "Do you know what this means?"

"What?" said Lavender.

"Padma's french boyfriend might be coming to Hogwarts! He's a Beauxbatons student! He's turning seventeen in September too, so he'll be old enough to compete." said Parvati, her eyes shining with unbridled glee.

"Lavender?"

It was Ron. Lavender jumped and turned around to see Ron holding out her fluffy purple blanket to her.

"Here." said Ron, "And thank you for Sorrel. Siri- Erhm… I got an owl to replace Scabbers, but Pig got kind of attached to Ginny… And Sorrel seems great. She's a bit skittish, but she should calm down once she gets use to people."

"Oh." said Lavender, wondering if 'Pig' was the owl, "Well that's good. I just hope she doesn't find her way into our dorm like Scabbers used to."

At this Ron's eyes took on a hard glint. "He what?"

"You mean Hermione never told you?" said Lavender, a bit confused. Surely Hermione had told Ron the reason she got a cat in the first place. "Scabbers kept coming into our dorm. He practically followed me around the castle. I- are you alright?"

Ron looked a bit sick, and he was trembling with something that looked like rage. "Am I alright? Are you alright?"

Lavender felt a bit of confusion at the odd question. Scabbers was just a silly rat. A creepy, gross rat, but a rat nonetheless. To Ron, Scabbers was a family pet that had been in their family for twelve years at the time of his death.

"I'm fine. He was just a rat. I'm sorry that Crookshanks ate him, that must have been awful for you."

A strange sort of pained looked enveloped Ron's face. He twisted his fingers in the bars of the rat crate as Sorrel poked her nose out of Binky's bed cave. Lavender wondered if the baby rabbit's scent still lingered on the soft pink felt. "Yeah…" He started to leave towards Harry and Hermione who were waiting for him. Lavender then remembered his question from earlier.

"Oh! About your sweater." said Lavender, making Ron turn around. He looked pained, and it made Lavender's heart hurt. "I liked the stitchwork. I don't know who makes all your sweaters, but they're quite beautiful. And- well the burgundy looked nice against your hair."

Ron's ears turned red and he mumbled a "Thanks…" before ducking away to Harry and Hermione. He tripped over his feet and Harry caught him, grinning at Lavender and laughing. Hermione just pursed her lips and shook her head, which made Harry laugh even harder.

Once Ron had rejoined Harry and Hermione, Parvati continued her gushing about Padma's French boyfriend. "Oh, I can't wait till you see him. He's absolutely gorgeous."

"Ron's gorgeous…" said Lavender, clutching her blanket close to her chest, and sighing contentedly.

She barely cared that later that night Hermione stormed into the room cradling Crookshanks and glaring daggers at Lavender. Though she did care enough to ask why.

Hermione's gaze softened a bit, but then countered, "Why did you tell Ron about Scabbers coming into our dorm?"

"I didn't realize it was a secret." said Lavender, "He was just a rat."

With a sigh, Hermione burrowed her face into Crookshanks while the horribly ugly cat purred and kneaded it's paws against her affectionately. "I suppose he was…"

It felt like the words had a double meaning.

In the bed next to them Parvati broke the tension that had developed. "So… That new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... What do suppose his classes will be like?"


	3. AKA Yo Mamma

_The man's face was obscured. It was always obscured. The only part of it that Lavender ever saw was his eyes- small and inhuman. They struck ice-like terror in her veins._

_He sat on a stool in a dark room that despite how hard Lavender tried, she could not escape. His nails were long and claw-like, and he reeked of the musty odor that reminded Lavender of a rat._

_Lavender did not know how many times she had dreamed it, only that it had started not long after Hermione had been petrified last year. She did not know how many times she had gone to Professor Trelawney in tears, looking for comfort and a way to end them. She wrote down every detail, spending hours analyzing her recollections the next morning. But nothing changed. Until now._

_This time was different._

_Normally the man just sat there doing nothing but staring at her with undisguised hunger in his beady little eyes, sometimes reaching a fat hand out with nails as long as talons._

_Tonight he stood up. Lavender gasped and backed away from him as fast as she could but soon found herself pressed against the wall. The man-creature continued his advance and the light in the room seemed to move to continue to hide his true face. He grabbed her by the hair, smelling it, then used one of his sharp nails to cut off a lock, grazing her cheek in the process._

_She didn't scream. She didn't flinch. She didn't care that she was so scared she couldn't breathe; Lavender refused to give the creature the satisfaction-_

_With a start Lavender woke, rolling onto her back._

_The first thing that she noticed upon awakening was that Scabbers was back. He had been missing for weeks, and Ron was certain Hermione's cat ate him._

_But now her bed smelled like him, so she knew that he had to be back._

_That, and the fact that she could see him out of the corner of her eye, sitting at her feet with his nails digging into her toes._

" _So is it true? Is Professor Lupin a werewolf?"_

_Lavender could hardly believe it. Parvati was gossiping with Hermione, but Scabbers was right there on her bed. Her blood felt like ice again, but this time she was frozen. She couldn't do anything. She felt as stiff as if she'd been petrified._

" _Yes. But Parvati, he's still a good person. And he's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we have. It's awful they're firing him." said Hermione. Lavender could see her sitting on her bed, bruised and battered with a bandage covering part of her cheek._

_Scabbers started crawling forward. Slowly. Torturously. Squirming up the sheets like some sort of demon. Lavender wanted to scream, to cry, to shout for help, but she couldn't even whimper._

" _Yes. He is- was, I suppose. What do you think he's going to do now?"_

_Scabbers was next to her waist now, and crawling up on her stomach, his small, sharp claws digging through her blanket and grating her skin. Lavender thought she might hyperventilate if not for the sheer fact that she couldn't breathe._

" _I don't know. I hope he's alright, though. It's so hard for werewolves to find work-"_

" _AAAARGH!" screamed Lavender, jumping up and out of bed, hitting and punching her blankets. All at once finally free of the paralysis that had bound her._

" _Lavender? Lavender, what's wrong?" said Hermione, grabbing Lavender and hauling her to a bench in front of the dorm room window._

" _Scabbers, he was- he was in my bed. He was right there! Didn't you see him while you were talking about Lupin being a… What- a werewolf?" said Lavender heatedly._

" _Lav, there was nothing there. It was just you," said Parvati, worry written on her face._

" _He was right there! He crawled on my chest… I- I couldn't breathe." sobbed Lavender as Hermione rubbed circles on her back, her lips set hard and thin. There was a loud mrowl, and Crookshanks jumped up onto their lap. Lavender hugged him, but he soon decided to switch to Hermione._

" _Traitor," said Lavender, hiccuping a small laugh._

_Hermione snuggled him close. "Lavender, it's okay," said Hermione, trying to be comforting. "Scabbers is gone. Crookshanks ate him last night. I saw it while Lupin was chasing us around the grounds last night. It's over."_

_Lavender nodded, letting out a sigh of relief and allowing herself to believe Hermione. It would be okay._

_Something warm dripped down her face._

" _So, Lav, what'd you do to your cheek?"_

**Chapter Three: In Which Malfoy Says Some Your Mama Jokes**

Not for the first time, Lavender woke with a start. Her dream had been an odd one. It had started with killing a spider that had dangled itself in her face and ended with Professor Moody trying to suck her blood out.

She sighed in her bed and sat up, grabbing the dream diary next to her bed and writing down everything she could remember, trying to grasp the quickly fading details.

 _Spiders…_ thought Lavender. They usually symbolized deceit, but killing them could indicate bad luck. Lavender frowned and wrote the possible interpretation with a question mark. She could ask Trelawney about it later.

Moody being a vampire was plain weird. But then again, most dreams were. They were the subconscious trying to tell you things about your waking life, but the subconscious can't exactly use words, so it uses images, symbolism, and riddles instead.

Vampires could represent a lot of things. Fear. Death. Sexuality. None of which she could envision Moody being associated with.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. But he was more frightening for his reputation; less so for being truly frightening.

Once Lavender had finished cataloging the dream she dressed and braided her hair before heading down to breakfast where class schedules were being passed out. She was pleased to see that she was scheduled for Double Divination that afternoon. Professor Trelawney, the thin Divination teacher with a tendency to predict unfortunate events was her favorite teacher. She had been a godsend last year when she had been plagued with recurring nightmares that had eventually devolved into sleep paralysis.

The first class of the day was Herbology where they spent most of the class period squeezing the pus out of gray, slug-like plants- bubotubers. A disgusting job, but somewhat satisfying.

"Where your dragon-hide gloves. The pus does nasty things to the skin," said Professor Sprout.

After they spent an hour filling jars with the bubotuber pus they went to Care of Magical Creatures where Lavender found a creature that was even more revolting than bubotubers; Blast-Ended Skrewts. They were pale and slimy and looked like deformed lobsters that were missing a shell. To make matters worse, they also had stingers.

All around an awful creature.

Almost worse than rats, in Lavender's opinion. Almost.

"Well, at least the skrewts are small," said Ron about an hour later as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch. Lavender walked quickly to catch up with him.

This was her chance. She could ask him to go out with her to Madame Puddifoots at their next Hogsmeade outing.

"Ron!" said Lavender in a voice that sounded entirely too shrill and excitable.

Ron stopped and Hermione and Harry quickly stopped as well, watching her and Parvati curiously. Instantly, Lavender regretted her decision, realizing this would have been easier if they were not being watched.

"Um.."

Ron stared at her, his ears turning red, "What do you need?" said Ron.

 _Think, Lavender, think!_ But Lavender's mind had gone blank. She could envision moths flying around inside her brain with how empty her head felt about right then.

"Do you… uh…"

"Do you want to sit at our table during Divination?" said Parvati, coming to Lavender's rescue. Lavender could have kissed her at that moment.

"Yes!" said Lavender, nodding furiously. "We should sit together."

"Uh... " said Ron, then nodded dumbly, "Sure! I'd love too. What about you, Harry?"

At this point, Harry had started grinning and nodded, "Sure," said Harry, then sent a smirk at Ron. "You two want to eat with us as lunch?"

"Sure," said Parvati.

As the five of them made their way up to the castle, Lavender could feel Hermione staring at her from behind. During lunch, she ignored them all and practically inhaled her food, eating so fast that Lavender had barely finished filling her plate by the time Hermione was half done.

"Is this how you're campaigning for elf rights now, Hermione?" said Ron, looking a little worried.

"Of course not," said Hermione, "I just want to get to the library before class."

"We don't even have homework yet! It's the first day." protested Ron, "Hang out with us a bit."

Hermione just shook her head and continued to wolf down food. "See you at dinner!" said Hermione, before leaving in the direction of the library with Ron and Harry staring at her in disbelief.

"What's this about elf rights?" said Parvati.

"She's upset because Hogwarts has house elves." said Harry, "She wants to give elves rights like pensions and salaries."

"Oh, well that nice. But... I thought that they didn't want those things," said Lavender, a bit confused as to how Hermione was going to accomplish that. "How…?"

Harry shrugged, "I dunno. I don't disagree with what she's trying to do, but…"

"They like being enslaved. They think of pay and benefits as an insult," said Ron in an exasperated tone.

"Well, Dobby didn't like being enslaved to the Malfoy's." said Harry, "He was ecstatic when he was freed."

"Dobby was weird," said Ron.

Harry nodded as if unable to come up with an appropriate argument. "True…" He frowned a bit and Ron sighed, but before he could say anything Parvati spoke up.

"Who's Dobby?"

"The Malfoys' house-elf," said Harry, then with a shit-eating grin, "Or at least he was."

Before she could ask what that meant, Ron changed the subject.

"Hey, Lavender, you and Parvati are good at Divination, right?" said Ron, picking at his food. He looked incredibly nervous.

Parvati nodded, "We're alright at it."

"Well, maybe we could…" Ron's voice trailed off, becoming nearly indecipherable while his ears turned red.

"What is it?" said Lavender. Next to her, Parvati was smirking.

Ron coughed, then took a swig of pumpkin juice. "Well, Harry is pretty good at Defense Against the Dark Arts. Maybe we could- uh..."

His voice trailed off into indecipherable mumbles.

"Sorry?" said Parvati, raising her eyebrows.

"S'dy 'oog'er..." trailed Ron with more indecipherable mumbles as he talked into his goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Uh…" said Lavender.

"DO YOU WANT TO STUDY TOGETHER?!"

The yell was unexpected, causing both Lavender and Parvati, as well as Harry, to jump. Ron turned red then hid his face in his arms.

"I never agreed to this," said Harry, earning a glare from Ron.

However, amidst the obvious turmoil that Ron was feeling, Lavender felt like she might soar once she had deciphered what Ron had been trying to say.

"Yes!" said Lavender a bit too loudly and made a few students look towards them. By now, Ron's ears had turned completely red, and he was playing with his goblet, though he looked like he was also smiling. Lavender felt as though she might vibrate out of her body with how excited she felt.

Ron wanted to spend time with her. Even if it was just for homework, he wanted to spend time with her. Which meant he liked her.

She smiled dreamily, playing with a piece of her hair while she stared at Ron, and Ron stared back. She heard Harry cough next to them and felt Parvati poke her shoulder, but she was so enamored with Ron's baby blue eyes that she barely registered them.

Trelawney's tower was dark and heavily perfumed. Lavender loved it; the smell of incense, the warmth of the fire, the comfortable lighting, the colorful and decorative rugs that littered the stone floor, and fluffy armchairs with round tables. To Lavender, the room felt like the safest and coziest room in the castle.

"Oh, Ms. Brown and Ms. Patil, it's so good to see you again!" said Trelawney as Lavender and Parvati took their seats at the front of the class. Harry and Ron sat down with them looking like they'd rather be at the back. "I have missed your open minds."

"It's good to be back, Professor," said Lavender as Trelawney's eyes squinted behind her large glasses in a smile. Then, as quickly as the smile came, it faded.

"Oh, my dear," said Trelawney. Next to her, Lavender heard a small groan from Harry. "I sense a dark cloud hovering near you. You must beware of the shapeshifter."

At this, Lavender saw Harry and Ron stiffen, then peer at Trelawney suspiciously. Shapeshifter? Thought Lavender, What could that mean? And does Harry know something about it?

Trelawney made a tiny whimper, covering her mouth dramatically, then patted Lavender on the shoulder. "Come to me, my dear, if you have any unusual dreams."

"Unusual how?" said Lavender, her mind first going to Moody being a vampire. But then, a small part of her remember the recurring dreams of the rat-eyed man. She then dismissed it. She had visited Trelawney about that nightmare dozens of times last year. It was far from unusual.

Trelawney grasped her hand comfortingly. "You will know when it happens, my dear." She then directed her attention to the rest of the class. "My dears, it is time for us to study the stars!"

The rest of the class passed without incident. Lavender absentmindedly filled out her complex star chart while she flitted between staring dreamily at Ron, and tried to stuff down anxieties that crept their way into her stomach.

Beware the shapeshifter.

Though she was not quite aware she was doing it, Lavender fingered her cheek, feeling for a cut that had long since healed. _It can't be him,_ thought Lavender. _I haven't had that dream in months. Whoever is in my dream is long gone._ Yet there was another voice in her head. One she refused to listen to.

_The dream stopped during the summer._

Once Lavender had finished her star chart she smiled at the results. It was Uranus. It spoke of individuality, sudden- even radical- change, and a strong instinct for rebellion. Innovative, unpredictable, and resourceful.

It was small and silly. She knew this, but it didn't stop her from exclaiming excitedly to Parvati, "I've got Uranus!"

Ron sent her a sly grin, "Can I see Uranus, Lavender?"

At this, Lavender crumpled up a spare piece of parchment and threw it at him.

The class ended with Trelawney giving them the assignment to draw up an analysis of how the star alignment at birth affected them. At this, Ron started to sulk and sink into his armchair, looking exasperated. She saw him complaining loudly to Harry as they descended the staircase after being dismissed for dinner.

For a moment, Lavender considered chasing after him but decided against it. She felt that conversing with Trelawney about what she had meant earlier was more urgent.

"Professor," said Lavender as she approached Trelawney's desk, with Parvati heading out and down the staircase. "I was wondering if you could elaborate any more on what you were saying earlier?"

She picked some more at her nail polish. She hoped that it wouldn't end up in another Binky situation.

Trelawney blinked quickly, and spoke with an airy tone, "The Sight does not work upon command, my dear. You know this."

"I do know that," said Lavender. She clutched at her star charts, "But what if… What if the Shapeshifter is the man in my dreams?"

"Are you still having them?"

"Not since before summer break."

There was a groan from Trelawney's armchair as she stood up and clasped her many shawls tightly to her, then took Lavender's star charts. "Uranus," said Trelawney, "Ah, I always knew you had a creative mind."

At the compliment, Lavender's heart sang. "Thank you," she said, beaming.

"Listen here, my child," said Trelawney, "As someone who has been haunted by the Sight, I can assure you; dreams can't hurt you."

Blood ran down her cheek as the rat-eyed man snipped a lock of hair.

"Open your mind." Trelawney continued, clasping Lavender's hands. "Listen to your subconscious and take charge of your dreams. My Inner Eye can See your potential. Look for the Signs your psyche gives you whilst in your Dream State."

Lucid dreaming. It was something that Trelawney had been trying to teach to Lavender last year in an attempt to get the nightmares to stop. It had not been successful. No matter how hard Lavender tried, she could not seem to figure out how to stay in an active Lucid Dream state.

"I'll try," said Lavender, trying not to let the disappointment in her voice show.

"Remember to look for clocks. And Ms. Brown, if you ever want to join me for a cup of tea, you know where to find me." said Trelawney, "We can read the leaves."

At the invitation for tea, Lavender felt herself perk up. Next to Horoscopes, Tasseography- or tea leaf reading -was of her favorite types of Divination. While Parvati found catharsis in attacking a piece of linen with a needle, beads, and decorative thread, Lavender found hers in tea. Something was soothing about drinking bitter tea and then interpreting the shapes left behind in the spent tea leaves.

Maybe it was from a good calming dose of caffeine, maybe it was from meditating on her thoughts- there were honestly a dozen reasons why she found the process so soothing. Lavender couldn't possibly pick just one.

Lavender said her goodbyes to Trelawney, then packed her things and left the room to go to dinner, taking the steps two at a time. She wanted to get to the Great Hall in time to get a seat next to Ron.

It turned out that she didn't need to worry about that, however.

"Oh, look Weasley! It's a picture of your house!" Just outside of the Great Hall, Lavender found Malfoy holding up a newspaper to the rest of the school, showing off a picture of what looked to be Ron's parents in front of a ramshackle-looking building to the rest of the school. "Well- I mean, if you can call it a house, that is. Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

Something hot and furious burned inside Lavender. Across from Malfoy, she could see Ron shaking with the same white-hot fury she felt. Before either of them could do anything Harry stepped in front of Malfoy.

"Stuff that paper up your arsehole, Malfoy!" said Harry, pulling Ron away.

"Oh? Well, I saw that you were staying with them at the World Cup this summer," said Malfoy, a sneer pulling across his pointed face. "Maybe you could tell us if his mother is really that fat, or if it's just the camera."

"Yeah, because your mother is such a prize winner." said Harry, holding Ron back from pouncing on Malfoy with Hermione's help. "Tell me, does she always look like she's constipated, or is it just because you were with her?"

Malfoy's sneer morphed into a violent scowl and he turned pink.

"Don't talk about my mother that way, Potter!"

"Then shut up!" said Harry, turning away from Malfoy, pulling a still struggling Ron with him.

Several things happened at once.

After Harry turned away, Malfoy, perhaps to keep the argument going, sent a few sparks past Harry's ear, causing a banging noise to ring out through the entrance hall. As he did this, Professor Moody came out through the Great Halls double doors and fire off a spell at Malfoy, causing an even louder banging noise.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Lavender could barely process what had happened before she saw a pure white, and very confused looking ferret sitting where Malfoy had just been standing. She, along with the rest of the students, started laughing as Malfoy realized what had happened and tried to scamper off.

Moody flicked his wand. Suddenly Malfoy was flung down the hall. With a settling horror, Lavender stopped laughing as she recalled how she and Parvati had flung Sorrel about her dining room floor with broomsticks. They hadn't hit her all that hard, or that far, but the rat had still broken an arm.

Moody was bouncing Malfoy ten, maybe even twenty feet down the hard, stone corridor. Much farther than Sorrel had been flung.

 _He's going to kill him,_ thought Lavender as Moody was growled and berated Malfoy, as though he were a parent scolding a child. She could see some sort of sick satisfied glint in his eye. _He's going to kill him, and he's enjoying it._

"Professor!" said Lavender with a scream, running to Moody as he continued to fling Malfoy up and down the corridor, the ferret long body twisting and squirming, squealing with pain. The rest of the students were still laughing, including Ron.

"Professor Moody!" said a voice from behind them. It was Professor McGonagall walking down the hall carrying a stack of books.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall." said Moody, still bouncing Malfoy.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"Teaching."

There was a whirlwind of expressions that made their way cross McGonagall's face as she took in the scene. "Is that- Professor Moody, is that a student?" said McGonagall, dropping the books in shock when Moody nodded

"No!" cried McGonagall. She pulled her wand out of her robe; a moment later Draco Malfoy reappeared in a lump on the floor, gasping in pain. He slowly got to his feet, cringing and holding his neck.

"We never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said McGonagall sharply, "Surely, Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

Moody looked thoroughly unconcerned as he shrugged and mumbled an answer that Lavender couldn't make out.

"We hand out detentions, Professor Moody! We speak to their Heads of Houses!" reprimanded McGonagall.

With a growl, Moody crossed the entrance hall and roughly grabbed Malfoy's arm. "Professor Snape is your Head of House, isn't he?" When Malfoy nodded, his face pink and eyes watering from pain, Moody started pulling him to the dungeons.

Harry and Ron were still laughing as Lavender ran off to follow Moody and Malfoy. It was as if she had forgotten about how Malfoy had, not five minutes ago, been cruelly making fun of Ron's mother. She could only think of Sorrel's limp body in Binky's crate.

The corridors in the dungeons were dark and narrow. Lavender soon lost track of Moody and Malfoy. By the time she found them again, they had already gone into Snape's office and closed the door. She could hear arguing, then a few moments later Moody stormed through the doorway alone, nearly knocking her to the ground before he disappeared into the dark corridors once again.

Lavender didn't have to wait long for Draco Malfoy to make another appearance. A few moments later he exited through the door, limping and still hunched over while he held his neck. Professor Snape looked to be helping him walk in an uncharacteristically caring manner.

"You have started a worrying pattern of getting yourself hurt at the start of every year, Mr. Malfoy," said Snape in a vicious tone. When he saw Lavender, he snarled, "What do you want, Ms. Brown.

"I- uh…" said Lavender. In truth, she didn't want anything. She wasn't exactly sure why she had followed in the first place. "I saw Professor Moody dragging him to you, but I thought he might be hurt." It was true enough.

Snape narrowed his black eyes suspiciously and Lavender's head started to hurt as if there was a pressure building inside it. Lavender shuffled, trying to pay attention to Malfoy who was scowling and still cradling his neck. There was a large bruise beginning to form on his jaw.

Well, since you're feeling so charitable, Ms. Brown," said Snape with a sneer, "Perhaps you can take Mr. Malfoy to the Hospital Wing for me. I have papers to grade."

"I don't need to go to the Hospital Wing. I'm fine," said Malfoy with a scoff. Snape raised an eyebrow in a bored manner.

"Is that so?" drawled Snape, "Forgive me if I'm confused, Mr. Malfoy. It's just that you were just moaning to me about Professor Moody's abuse."

Malfoy wrenched himself away from Snape and began limping away, leaning on the corridor wall for support. "I'm fine! I don't need anyone's help. Leave me alone!"

A muscle twitched in Snape's jaw as he watched Malfoy disappear. He turned to Lavender, his robes flourishing around him and making him look like a large, annoyed bat.

"Make yourself useful and make sure he doesn't paralyze himself on the way to the Hospital Wing," said Snape, waving his hand to dismiss Lavender, then went back into his office, slamming his door behind him.

For a second Lavender just stood in the dark, narrow corridor in shock. Then reality hit her again and she ran down the corridor to find Malfoy. A part of her felt annoyed that Snape had just assumed she would be willing to take him to the Hospital Wing, but she knew that if she ever voiced the annoyance Snape would probably just ask her if he had been wrong.

 _Asshole,_ thought Lavender, breathing hard as she raced to catch up to Malfoy. It only took a few seconds, however. He was not traveling quickly. When he heard her approaching she saw Malfoy flinch and turn around quickly.

It was a mistake. As soon as he craned his neck, Malfoy shuddered, and his whole body collapsed. He screamed when he hit the floor.

"Shit!" said Lavender then hurried to help him up, but Malfoy clawed at her arms, pushing her away.

"I'm fine!" said Malfoy with as much venom as ever, "Go away."

"No, you're not." said Lavender, "Why won't you let me help you?"

"Why?" hissed Malfoy, "You're a Gryffindor. You hate Slytherins. Why would you want to help me, if not to stab me in the back later?"

"Gryffindors don't stab people in the back," said Lavender, feeling the white-hot fury from earlier returning. "That's Slytherin's job."

"Oh, like there's never been a Gryffindor who's betrayed the people who trust them."

"Yes!" Lavender insisted, "We don't betray our friends!"

"Then why are you here?"

The question made Lavender stop and blink. Why was she here? Why should she care about Malfoy? He had just been bullying Ron- someone that Lavender cared about. But try as she might, as she looked at Malfoy lying on the floor like a cripple, she couldn't stop the image of Sorrel huddled with her broken leg in the corner of Binky's crate from invading her mind.

Like Sorrel, Malfoy was horrible and awful.

Like Sorrel, Malfoy didn't deserve to be put in this much pain.

But Lavender didn't voice this. She couldn't figure out how to put this confliction into words or sentences. So she just growled in irritation and pulled Malfoy's arm over her shoulder, ignoring his protests.

"Fuck you," said Malfoy hatefully, "And fuck your ginger boyfriend."

The white-hot fury from earlier returned full force.

Perhaps it was Malfoy's pained groaning piercing her ear, causing her to feel unbearably anxious. Perhaps it was the two sides of her warring in conflict; Lavender the caring, and Lavender the vindictive. Ultimately it didn't matter what it was, only what she said next.

"You brought this on yourself, you know," said Lavender as they walked. The effect was instantaneous.

"Blaming the victim, are we?" said Malfoy angrily as he stiffened.

"Victim?" said Lavender haughtily, "You started it by making fun of Ron's mother-!"

"Well, I'm sorry if I upset your boyfriend, but I don't-"

"He's not my boyfriend!" said Lavender, her voice as vicious as Snape's from earlier, "And that's not the point! The point is that first, you act like a complete toerag, then you attack someone while their back is turned! Then, to add insult to injury, you have the gall to act like you're the victim!" Lavender was walking quicker now. Their pace was agonizingly slow. She wanted this over with.

"A teacher turned me into a ferret, and then proceeded to throw me down the hall! I was injured! Of course, I'm the victim!" growled Malfoy, his fingers digging into her shoulder. Lavender wasn't sure if this was from the pain of their quicker pace or rage. Either way, Lavender decided to slow their pace, only feeling a little sorry.

"I'm not arguing that you weren't hurt, or that Professor Moody was in the right," said Lavender, her voice a bit softer. "He wasn't in the right. But regardless of how horrible it was, why did he feel the need to punish you?"

There was no answer. The groans of pain had stopped for a sweet blissful second. Still, Lavender could practically feel the set of Malfoy's jaw. She stopped and turned her head to stare at Malfoy. She wasn't going to let him hide from this.

"Why do you even care that I got hurt?" said Malfoy in an obvious attempt to redirect the conversation.

"None of your business. Answer the question."

Malfoy looked like this was the last place on earth he wanted to be. He detached himself from Lavender then leaned against the wall, still hunched over and still holding his neck. Lavender readied herself for in case he fell over again.

"Answer the question, Malfoy!" said Lavender forcefully.

"Fine!" shouted Malfoy, "Professor Moody turned me into a ferret because I was being a great bullying git! Are you happy?"

"No," said Lavender, then pulled Malfoy's arm over her shoulder once again. Neither of them said anything else for the rest of the trip to the Hospital Wing.

The Hospital Wing smelled like bitter herbs and aromatic poultices. It was pure, blinding white, and the beds felt stiff and sterile. Lavender wondered if they purposely made it feel unwelcoming in an effort to de-incentivize students from hurting themselves.

She helped Malfoy sit down of one of the stiff white beds, wincing in sympathy when he stiffened and bit down another scream as the movement jarred his back.

"When my father finds out…" she heard him mumbling under his breath.

Upon seeing them, Madame Pomfrey, the Hospital Wing's nurse bustled over and began tapping him with her wand. After a few moments, she shook her head, then left to gather some supplies.

Not exactly sure why she hadn't left yet, Lavender sat down on the bed across from him a bit awkwardly, remembering Snape's words from earlier. Last year Malfoy had gotten himself injured by insulting Buckbeak the hippogriff, then proceeded to make a complaint to his father, who had used it to try and fire Hagrid. The result was Buckbeak being sentenced to death, though she had heard from Hermione that he had miraculously escaped at the last minute.

"So are you going to file a complaint?" said Lavender.

Malfoy scoffed, "Of course I'm going to tell my father. I'm his heir, so he'll do anything for me."

"You mean you're his son," said Lavender. The word heir seemed like an oddly detached way to describe Malfoy's relationship with his father.

"I- That's what I said," said Malfoy, scowling again, though now he looked distracted. He shook his head without thinking, then made another face as he bit down another scream. Lavender felt the hairs on her arms stand up as she heard the pained groan.

There was a long moment where nothing in the room made a sound except for the sounds of Madam Pomfrey preparing something from the back of the room and Malfoy's pained groans.

"Just go away…" said Malfoy in a shuddering voice. Lavender nodded, then left as quickly as she could.

She felt a weight lift from her as she exited the Hospital Wing, only to have it descend again once she found herself ambushed by a blur of bushy hair. Hermione.

"I saw you taking Malfoy into the Hospital Wing."

It was not a question.

Suddenly, words that Lavender could not find earlier started to spill out.

"She was injured," said Lavender. "Sorrel, the rat I gave Ron on the train- I found her when she ran into my house a few days ago. Parvati, Padma, and I whacked her with brooms to get her out of my house and Sorrel got hurt badly. And Malfoy… Professor Moody threw him up and down the corridor, and ferrets have got such fragile backs…"

Hermione blinked, then made an 'O' with her mouth. She looked about as conflicted as Lavender felt. Maybe more.

"I told Ron that Malfoy could have been hurt… But no, it's all 'Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret!' Honestly..." Hermoine shook her head, her lips coming together in a way that made Lavender think about McGonagall. "I can't believe I'm asking this, but is Malfoy hurt badly? I saw him walk off with Professor Moody, so I thought he was okay…"

"I think he hurt his back, but he was walking," said Lavender.

"Well, that's good at least." said Hermione, then she added sardonically, "Madame Pomfrey should be able to fix him right up, and he'll be back to his racist and classist insults before we know it. Hooray..."

Despite herself, Lavender laughed. "Cheers!"


	4. AKA MATH

_Lavender skipped through the corridors and ran up the staircases. After quidditch lessons, Parvati had seemed down. Something was bothering her, and Lavender firmly believed that a good friend would find out what._

_First, however, Lavender had to find Parvati._

_Hogwarts was like a maze. It was a wonder they didn't hand out maps to First Years as it was so easy to get lost. So Lavender stuck to the floors they had already been introduced to, stopping for a split second on the third floor and staring down the dark, abandoned corridor they weren't supposed to go down._

_As Parvati had agreed with her and Hermione that it was not something they found particularly interesting, Lavender opted against searching there._

_Maybe she was sulking in an empty classroom._

_Her intuition proved to be right when Lavender searched the classroom used for study hall that was currently empty, save for two students. Parvati stood face to face with Pansy Parkinson, a vicious girl with an upturned nose that could sniff out secrets from miles away. The two of them were locked in a heated argument._

_As neither of them had noticed her, Lavender decided to stay outside the classroom to wait for Parvati. While Pansy was a bully, she often left Parvati alone; the two had been friends since diapers. Unfortunately, as they were arguing a bit loudly, and the door didn't close all the way, she could hear the conversation they were having._

_"Well, I just don't see why you have to hang out with those losers," said Pansy. There was a thump that sounded like a book being slammed down. Lavender bit her lip nervously. Surely Pansy didn't mean her?_

_"They're my friends! You shouldn't call them losers. It's mean!" said Parvati._

_"Well, that's what they are!" said Pansy derisively, "Losers. And I thought we were friends, Parvati."_

_"We're best friends," said Parvati. She sounded like she was close to tears, and Lavender almost ran into the room until Parvati continued. "But Lavender and Hermione are my friends, too!"_

_So it was her, and Hermione that Pansy was calling losers. Lavender clenched her fist together. Part of her wanted to run into the classroom, but she knew that it wouldn't help matters at this point._

_"What? Don't tell me that that mudblood is your friend now, too!" shrilled Pansy, causing the air to go still with shock._

_"Pansy!" said Parvati, sounding aghast, "Don't call Hermione that!"_

_"What's wrong with it?" said Pansy, sounding more confused than confrontational now, "It's what she is!"_

_"She's muggle-born, so what?" said Parvati, pausing for a moment. "Mud- that word is wrong!"_

_"It means the same thing."_

_There was another pause, and it seemed as if the world had stopped moving. A crack was forming in Pansy and Parvati's friendship that Lavender could practically feel. At this point, she had started to stand up to leave. It felt as if the conversation was about to get too personal to continue to listen in._

_"No, it's not," said Parvati, her tone leaving no room for argument._

_"Well, that's what Daddy says," said Pansy, her voice starting to shudder. "And Draco said his father said the same thing. They don't think it's a bad word. No one in my House does, either."_

_"Well, I do! And Hermione's my friend, so I don't want you calling her that!"_

_By now, Pansy's shudders had devolved into full-on tears._

_"Well, Daddy says he doesn't want me hanging out with mudbloods or blood traitors, so I guess we're not friends anymore!"_

_Footsteps raced towards the door, and Lavender heard the sound of a latch clicking. Lavender started down the hall. She didn't want Parvati to know she had been snooping on the conversation, even if it was partly accidental._

_Especially because it was only partly accidental._

_"Pansy, wait!"_

_"No!" screamed Pansy, caught between rage and grief. "I'm leaving. You're a blood traitor now. If someone sees us together and tells Daddy, he'll be mad at me._

_If there was more to the conversation, Lavender didn't hear it. She had already left, the skip gone from her steps._

**Chapter Four: In Which Lavender Goes Shoe Shopping**

Shoe shop lights shone down from the ceiling, muggle and far brighter than most lights sources in the wizarding world. Lavender didn't mind; although it was usually harder to enchant muggle merchandise, it was often cheaper than wizarding goods. If there was one thing muggles had perfected, it was mass production.

Replicating and conjuring objects was easy. Getting them to stay took a lot of work.

Lavender browsed the shoes, admiring the detail and glitter on a pair of rather expensive pumps before putting them down and moving to the next item. Absentmindedly she glanced at the clock to check the time; she was meeting her mother soon.

**5:23**

For a strange reason, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Something was wrong.

Lavender looked around widely before deciding she must be paranoid. She went back to her shopping, holding her head high. _Everything is fine_ , she told herself. _No one is out to get you. People are good. No one wants to hurt you. Things are fine._

So she took a pair of clogs and brought them to the check out stall to pay for them. She had some trouble with the money as none of the numbers seemed to make sense, but the nice stall lady just nodded behind a curtain of hair and counted for her.

There was a clock on the checkout counter that Lavender checked.

**5:14**

Alarm bells started ringing in Lavender's head again, and then the checkout lady gave her back the clogs. Within a second, Lavender **Knew** that something was **Wrong**.

The cashier lady's face was gone. There was nothing but a blank slate of skin behind her curtain of hair. There weren't even any nose holes.

With a scream, Lavender ran out of the shop. Soon, she realized why she was shopping for shoes in the first place, for as soon as Lavender left, she felt the concrete ground scratching her bare feet. She stopped long enough to put on her new pair of clogs-

 _Wait…_ thought Lavender, _Why the hell am I wearing clogs? I hate clogs. They're gross. Ugh, and rubber!_

With agonizing trepidation, Lavender put her finger on her palm and excitedly watched it phase right through.

She was dreaming.

"Yes!" shouted Lavender, jumping and feeling a sense of weightlessness as she started to fly through the air and into a sky that looked like someone had taken a rainbow and turned it into candy floss. She had done it! She had taken control of a dream!

Past the candy floss sky, she saw Mars overpowering the Sun.

With the strength of a hammer, the feeling of **Wrong** came back full force-

Lavender woke up. There was a sudden, terrifying sensation of being paralyzed, and Lavender only just caught herself before the panic set in. Through the corner of her eye, Lavender could see Parvati sitting on her bed with her embroidery hoop, and hear her chatting with Hermione who was studying.

 _It's okay,_ thought Lavender, _You can do this. Just wake up._

Seconds later, Lavender could feel her body responding to her commands. She sat up, giggling. The initial terror of waking up was gone, replaced by overwhelming joy.

"What is it?" said Parvati teasingly, "Dream about Ron?"

"Better!" said Lavender, vibrating as she told the good news. "I Lucid Dreamed!"

At this Parvati sat straight up, squealing excitedly with Lavender, abandoning her project to bounce up and down the dorm with Lavender. Hermione stared at the antics, seemingly disapprovingly, but Lavender could see a small smile on her tightened lips. Lavender beamed.

Ron liked her. She had finally, finally, taken control of the horrible dreams that seemed to plague her. Scabbers was gone.

Everything was fine.

"Oh!" said Lavender, suddenly remembering her dream journal. "I need to write it down!"

Professor Moody started out their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with a lecture, saying that while they were all caught up on learning about Dark Creatures, they were very behind on defending against curses. Then, he scolded Lavender and Parvati for comparing their horoscopes under the desk.

How he what they had under their desks Lavender didn't know, but she suspected it had something to do with his fake eye.

All of this would have been fine if he hadn't then proceeded to demonstrate the three Unforgivable Curses to them on a bunch of innocent spiders.

He first used the Imperius Curse to mind control one spider, and then he used the Cruciatus Curse to torture it.

"Stop it!" shouted Hermione at him, shivering with rage, then looked at Neville, who was also trembling, but from something else that seemed more like fear. His face was as white as a ghost, and although Lavender could not see his eyes from the angle she was at, she could feel a sense of pure, unadulterated terror coming off of him.

After this, Professor Moody killed the spider with the Killing Curse. "Avada Kedavra!" said Moody, his face a mask of pity, and the green light that erupted from his wand put the spider out of its misery. But Lavender didn't see mercy in his eyes; she only saw a sick sort of glee. Moody took a swig of his flask before continuing. "The Killing Curse. Only one person has ever survived it, and he's sitting in this very room."

In the front of the class, Harry sat as still as a statue. Lavender knew the story; practically every creature in the wizarding world knew his story. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. You-Know-Who had killed his parents with the Killing Curse and then proceeded to use it on Harry, but for some inexplicable reason, it hadn't worked. Instead, it backfired. Killing You-Know-Who.

 _Why would he use it in front of children?_ Lavender thought, _They're illegal. Surely, Professor Dumbledore couldn't have approved this._ The use of any of the Unforgivable Curses on another human was enough for a life sentence in Azkaban.

After class ended, Lavender saw Moody talking to Neville, then take another swig from his flask. He looked like he was trying to be comforting, but something about it felt off to Lavender. _It has to be nothing,_ thought Lavender. _I'm being silly, like usual. He's a respected war veteran. Yes, he's a bit… mad- but he saved countless lives during the war._

But try as she might, Lavender couldn't shake the bad feeling Moody gave her. It was the same sort of feeling she got from Scabbers; like alarm bells were screaming that something wasn't quite what it seemed.

"Parvati…" said Lavender as they walked to their next class, "Do you get the feeling that Moody is a bit… I dunno, touched in the head?"

"Well, people do call him Mad-Eye." said Parvati.

"I don't know." said Lavender, "It feels like something more than that. Maybe I'm just being silly..."

"Maybe," said Parvati, and Lavender felt a bit miffed at her dismissal, "I will say I don't think I'll be able to eat meat at lunch today, or ever again. They might be spiders, but that was awful. I swear the one he used the Cruciatus Curse on was _squealing_."

"Agreed," said Lavender, forgetting her annoyance. Parvati was probably just as conflicted as she was. "We should just eat vegetarian. It'll be healthier anyways."

"Ooooh… Grandmother will be pleased." said Parvati, "She's very devout and always getting on Mum and Dad about how they raised us with meat. She doesn't seem to understand that Mum and Dad just aren't that religious."

"And you are?" laughed Lavender.

"Meh,"

Padma, too, seemed to be of a similar mindset. At dinner that night Lavender saw that across the Hall Padma's roast pork was practically untouched by the end of dinner. Meanwhile, at their table, Lavender was pleased to see Neville looking much more cheerful by the end of the day.

"We had tea after class," said Neville brightly, "And he gave me a book on herbology. I guess he had talked to Sprout, and she mentioned the fact that I'm good with plants."

 _See, Lavender! It's nothing,_ said Lavender to herself. It did not entirely ease her uncomfortable feeling, but it was enough that by the time she grouped up with Ron and Harry in the Gryffindor tower later that night to do Divination homework, she had stopped thinking about it.

To say that Harry was bad at Divination would be an understatement. He wasn't bad; he was dreadful. Ron's work wasn't as awful- it was passable, even. When he did the work, that is. His charts were often incomplete or hilariously invented.

They were entertaining, at least.

"Why are you making up your dreams?" said Lavender as she went through their dream journals and read over the fabricated dream recordings.

"Psh…" said Ron, laughing nervously, "Who said we're making them up?"

"Most people don't recall this much detail," said Lavender, going over a particularly gruesome entry where a troll ate Ron. "Or at least, I hope you're making them up. You seem to be dying quite a bit."

"We thought Trelawney would like that." said Harry looking a bit sheepish, "She's always predicting my death."

Parvati snorted while she read Harry's dream journal, "Good point."

"That is fair," said Lavender with a giggle. She liked Trelawney. The eccentric Divination teacher's guidance had helped her quite a bit last year. But even she had to admit the Divination professor could be a bit melodramatic. Still, if anyone ever asked, Lavender would say that the over-the-top antics were something that she quite enjoyed.

"So do you actually put down what you dream in your journals?" said Ron, "I never dream anything."

"Of course you dream," said Lavender, "Most people just forget them after they wake."

"Well, then how do you remember them?" said Ron obtusely, "And what are we supposed to put down if we don't remember them?"

"That you didn't remember anything. Even Trelawney doesn't remember all her dreams, nor I." said Lavender, and Ron sighed in a frustrated manner.

"Like I've been telling you for ages," said Hermione from a table near them, "It's a very woolly subject. Lavender, Parvati, you should look into Arithmancy. I find it fascinating."

Lavender felt a flash of annoyance, but couldn't think of a way to argue with her. Arguing with Hermione was like fighting an uphill battle. She took preparation as a lifestyle choice and could and would debate with you to the death over something if she felt she was in the right.

Lavender could remember a time when Hermione read all five books in the Torah, just so that she could get into religious debates with Anthony Goldstein.

The girl even filled up several spiral-bound muggle notebooks with notes about specific sections.

Needless to say, an argument over whether or not Divination was a useful subject with Hermione Granger was pointless. Hermione believed herself to be right, and would undoubtedly be prepared to counter anything Lavender threw at her.

The worst part was that she would likely be right.

"Try meditating before bed. It helps to clear your mind." said Lavender, ignoring Hermione and handing the dream journal back to Ron, "That's what Parvati and I do. And keep your dream journal right next to your bed so that you can write down everything right after you wake up. And sometimes, if you tell yourself you'll remember your dreams before you go to bed, it'll help too."

Ron made a beleaguered sigh but took the journal back. "Okay, but usually, I just remember weird shapes and stuff, even if I do remember them."

"So write that down," pressed Lavender, "She only wants you to try. Dreams are weird. The other night all I could remember was that I killed a spider and that Moody was a vampire. And then last night I straight up Lucid Dreamed. She doesn't care what you dream about, or what you remember. She cares about how well you interpret the details you're able to remember."

"What's a Lucid Dream?" said Harry.

"It's when you're able to tell you're asleep while you're dreaming." said Parvati excitedly, "Once you're in a Lucid Dream state, you can dream about anything you want! You can even fly or dream about being on the moon. Trelawney told me once that when she Lucid Dreams, she can take control of her Sight."

Next to them, Hermione let out a laugh disguised as a cough.

"Sorry," said Hermione, though she didn't sound very sorry.

"Anyways," said Lavender, letting her annoyance show in her tone, "The more you write down your dreams, the easier it'll be to remember them."

They then started on their star charts, of which Harry's was a complete and hopeless mess. Lavender just sighed and used her wand to change the name on her homework to Harry's. Tomorrow she would ask Trelawney for an extension on her homework the next day. It was no secret that she was the Divination teacher's favorite student. Lavender was certain no trouble would come from it.

The next couple months passed quickly and somewhat painfully, lifted only by the hilarity of seeing Moody stumble into Trelawney's class with a bouquet of roses when Lavender was asking for her extension.

Other than that quick episode of sunshine, the following weeks were awkward and fraught with tension. Hermione felt as if Lavender had started encroaching on her territory after Lavender began to help Harry and Ron with their Divination homework. Lavender disagreed.

All of this came to a head on the thirtieth of October.

After classes were let out for the day, McGonagall began rounding up her Gryffindor students. She led them downstairs to wait for the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegation, organizing them into neat rows, and inspecting them for anything that might embarrass the school.

"You know, Ron's just using you because he doesn't want to do his homework," said Hermione in a low voice while they were being lined up in front of the Black Lake.

"Or he could simply be trying to do better at Divination," said Lavender resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Ron's too sensible for that." hissed Hermione, her bushy hair billowing like a cloud.

"Yeah, well, maybe that's because you're too proud to admit that there might be something to Divination that you can't comprehend!" said Lavender, trying to keep her voice down, so as not to be overheard by McGonagall. Lavender didn't get to see the offended face Hermione made because at that moment, Parvati and Padma came over to stand next to them in line.

"Lavender, can I use your compact?" said Padma, "Marius is coming with the other Beauxbatons applicants. I want to check my lipgloss."

"Of course," said Lavender, and heard Hermione huff behind her. "What?"

"Nothing," said Hermione.

Lavender gritted her teeth. She knew what Hermione was thinking.

Silly, stupid, little girl.

"Just because you're jealous-"

"Oh, I am not jealous of you." snapped Hermione, her eyes flashing. "I just think that _rational_ subjects like Arithmancy and-"

"Oh, there you go on again about Arithmancy!"

"Hey!" Parvati cut in between them, her braid swinging along with a large ornamental butterfly clip. "Can we do this some other time?"

Lavender almost snapped at Parvati, but then saw other students staring at them. She blushed, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having thrown her dirty laundry to the public. Hermione, to her credit, also looked a bit sheepish- especially when Professor McGonagall gave them both a withering glare.

"Ms. Patil, you're needed in the Ravenclaw line," said McGonagall to Padma who sulked, but trotted over to her own house. "Ms. Granger, Ms. Brown, I hope you can keep your discussion civil in front of our guests. And Ms. Patil, take that… whatever it is out of your hair."

Parvati scowled, but removed her clip, only to put it back once an exasperated McGonagall had her back turned to yell at the Weasley twins who had put ink in the lens of Colin Creevey's camera. Lavender turned to fire back at Hermione, but she had already left to take her place next to Ron and Harry.

With nothing left to say or do, Lavender tapped her foot impatiently and waited for the two schools to arrive. Soon, the late October chill started to seep in, and despite her earlier excitement at finally meeting Padma's french boyfriend, as well as the rest of the students from Durmstrang and Baeuxbatons, all Lavender wanted to do was go inside and warm up.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a quarter of an hour, Dumbledore pointed into the sky to announce that Baeuxbatons was arriving.

At first, Lavender thought it might be a dragon, as did many other students. Then, Dennis Creevey, the boy who had been sorted wearing Hagrid's tent-like ragged coat, piped up, "I think it's a flying house!"

He wasn't entirely wrong, either.

Indeed, as the delegation from Beauxbatons came closer and the lights from the castle shown down upon it, they saw that the black shape hurtling towards them was, in fact, a blue horse-drawn carriage the size of a large house. It swooped down, skimming the top of the Forbidden Forest before finally landing in front of the four lines of students and teachers.

When the carriage opened, the largest woman Lavender had ever seen exited through the massive doors.

She had an elegant, if a bit robust, face and wore black satin robes with opal rings, bracelets, and even an opal broach at her throat. As she advanced on the waiting crowd, Lavender noticed that she was larger than Hagrid, though she did not even think such a thing was possible. The woman also had inky -black eyes that seemed to hypnotize Lavender. Parvati had to pinch her arm so that she could point at the several boys and girls in pale blue robes who had also exited the gargantuan carriage.

"I see Marius!" whispered Parvati excitedly as Dumbledore began to clap, causing a waterfall of applause from the rest of the school.

"Which one is he?" said Lavender in a hushed voice.

"The gorgeous one," said Parvati unhelpfully, though Lavender had to giggle at the lovestruck simpering tone she had adopted. "Oh, I wonder if Padma would be willing to share."

"Share? Why?" said Lavender, "Just get your own."

"True,"

"Shh!"

Both Lavender and Parvati jumped as McGonagall came up behind them, glaring imperiously as she held out her hand. Parvati gave a small smile, then detached her butterfly clip, only to have it snatched by the stern woman who motioned for Lavender to follow her. Lavender pouted, but followed McGonagall as she was herded proceeded in between Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, who both gave her a shit-eating grin.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said McGonagall in a low voice, "And if I have to talk to you again, it will be detention, Ms. Brown. Durmstrang is arriving, now be quiet and show them your respect."

Sure enough, there was a low rumbling noise from the Black Lake, and to Lavender's continued amazement, a ship began to rise in a spectacular manner from the dark depths of the lake. It had an eerie way about it and reminded Lavender of a 16th-century galleon ship; only it looked as if it had been pulled off the ocean floor in one gigantic piece.

Once the ship settled with a splash in the water, the contigent from Durmstrang began marching off, its ancient-looking boards creaking unsettlingly. Through the mist, Lavender thought their profiles seemed unusually large, but it was because of shaggy fur cloaks they wore. It gave them a rather impressive looking appearance, and Lavender immediately wanted one- only golden or white, instead of gray.

She heard several gasps as they drew nearer, though she could not understand why. She didn't need to ask, however. A few rows down from her she her Ron explain to Harry in an excited gasp:

"Harry look- it's Viktor Krum!".

"So who is the Durmstrang headmaster again?" said Lavender to Dean as they settled inside for the feast. She had tried to sit next to Parvati again, but McGonagall had bustled in to divide them. Instead, Parvati had sat next to Ginny, and Lavender had stuck with Dean and Seamus. It had been a few minutes, and Lavender was already full, but she entertained herself by joining in on Dean and Seamus's conversation.

"Karkaroff, and Beauxbatons is Madame Maxine," said Seamus, "Dean, guess what I found while we were outside- look, it's an Adder Stone!"

He held up a small flat rock with a hole bored through it.

Dean's eyes widened, and he grinned, then snatched it from Seamus, "Mum used to tell me about these. You sure it's real?"

"What is it?" said Lavender, confused.

"Adder Stone, or Hag Stone as Mum calls them. They're stones with natural holes bored through them because of water currents. Supposedly they have powerful magical properties." said Dean, further confusing Lavender.

"I thought your Mum was muggle," said Lavender. As far as she had been aware, Dean's parents were muggleborn, and didn't know a lick of magic.

"Well, she is," said Dean, "But she's into some weird, eclectic stuff, and goes to a lot of hippie, Pagan festivals. Apparently, it's where she met my Dad."

"Oh, cool," said Lavender, "Always thought muggles didn't know anything about magic."

"Most of it is bogus," said Dean, shrugging, "But a lot of wizarding books concerning natural formations mention Hag Stones. Not a lot of research has been done regarding them, however. They're kind of rare, and most charms are easier to perform and do pretty much the same job."

"They aren't as good as Adder Stones, though." said Seamus, "Me mam always said that an Adder Stone could keep ya safe from Death himself."

"Yeah, but they're kind of a one trick pony, don't you think?" said Dean, "Supposedly they're easily broken."

Easily broken...

Like a switch, Lavender felt her thoughts drift to Parvati, who was sitting and laughing with Ginny. Before Hogwarts, she had been friends with Pansy since diapers, but it had cracked at the beginning of their first year when Parvati befriended her and Hermione. By the end of their first year, it had fallen to dust. T _hat won't happen with Hermione and I_ , Lavender told herself. But she felt uncertain.

"Seamus, Dean…" said Lavender, feeling around in her robes for a bright pink quill she liked to carry on her person. If she was going to stay friends with Hermione, she would have to find some common ground. "Do either of you have any parchment?"

"No, but I have a sketchbook in my robe pocket," said Dean, "You can use that. What are you doing?"

"Hermione keeps going on about Arithmancy, and I've decided to take a page from her book." said Lavender, going over the basics of Arithmancy that she could remember in her head.

Divination with numbers, essentially. Lavender almost laughed at the irony. Trust Hermione to find magic and wonder in something as dry and boring as math, thought Lavender.

Arithmancy was all about sorting letters and assigning them a number from one to nine.

**Z**

**LAVENDER BROWN**   
**31455459 29655**

After sorting the numbers, they would be added up. After some calculations, Lavender got **63** , which was reduced then again by adding them together to get **9**.

 **9** was her character number. Lavender jotted it down and started with adding the vowels in her name for her heart number, and then the consonants for her social number, jotting them down as **8** and **1**. She didn't remember what that meant, but she would look for it later.

 **981**.

With a grin, she decided to add up Parvati's name as well, getting **147**.

Padma's was **339**.

Ron's was **243**.

Harry's was **248**.

No wonder they're such good friends, thought Lavender looking at their corresponding character numbers. When she calculated Hermione's and got **449** she looked at it alongside Harry and Ron a bit sadly.

Hermione's character number was **4** , and Ron and Harry both had **2**. The math was simple. No wonder Hermione put so much stock in Arithmancy. The three of them had the closest friendship out of anyone in Hogwarts, and by Arithmancy standards, they were all practically soulmates.

Lavender huffed and tried to pay attention to the speech that Dumbledore had long since started, playing idly with her quill.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore, then continued to tell the school the rules of the submission while Lavender's attention drifted to the rows of teachers, landing on Moody who was taking another sip from his flask. The names would be drawn tomorrow, at the Halloween feast.

Down the table, Parvati seemed especially interested in the ancient-looking goblet sitting inside a jeweled box. Probably as old as the tournament itself, thought Lavender.

Moody seemed to be staring at Harry while Dumbledore spoke. His good eye was trained on Harry, while his false eye surveyed the surrounding Hall, bobbing up and down in a mechanical fashion, sometimes darting behind him at odd moments before it suddenly zipped at stared straight at Lavender. Moody stopped staring at Harry, then trained his good eye on Lavender, his eyes reverting to Dumbledore's speech only after Lavender averted her gaze.

All of a sudden, Lavender felt an odd freezing sensation that seemed to last for both forever and a second. A dry, brittle voice whispered in her ear that said nothing and everything. The world sat still, and chaos reigned as Mars descended into view in the enchanted ceiling above her.

As quickly as it began, the Great Hall was once again bustling with noise and chatter. Mars, but a flicker in the night sky. Dumbledore's speech had ended, and students were filing out of the Hall, heading towards their common rooms. Lavender blinked in confusion as she was confident that a second ago, Dumbledore had barely begun been finishing up his speech.

She handed back the sketchbook to Dean after tearing out the page with his permission. When she fluttered her eyes over it, Lavender felt her blood turn to ice. There, written in a scratchy detached handwriting that Lavender didn't recognize, was one more name.

**ALASTOR MOODY: 523**

Underneath it, the scratchy handwriting had repeated **523** , but then scratched it out and written **514**.

It couldn't be.

Surely, it was just a coincidence. Just an odd coincidence.

But it was an odd coincidence indeed that Moody's numbers were the same numbers as the one she had seen in the clocks she saw in her dream just weeks before.


	5. AKA Pythons and Cards

_The sun was shining in tiny, iridescent rays into Professor Trelawney's tower. Behind her desk, Professor Trelawney was shuffling a deck of cards while Parvati paced furiously._

_"That- Ooooh!" raged Parvati, twirling around aggressively enough to make her heavy braid fling itself up in a curve. Lavender sat up in her chair and nodded sympathetically while Trelawney simply looked tired._

_"Ms. Patil," said Trelawney, "Come, sit. Just breathe, my dear. Clear your mind, and let yourself float into the Beyond." she waved her arms dramatically, and Parvati sat down. She took in Trelawney's heavy shawls and her eyes that were made to look about three times their normal size from her heavy lenses, and looked like she was about to laugh before she let out a heavy groan, shrinking into the overstuffed armchair._

_"You as well, Ms. Brown." said Trelawney, "I can sense your reluctance to join me in the Great Abyss."_

_"I'm trying," said Lavender with a bitter taste in her mouth, "I just… Urgh!."_

_"Did I tell you what Pansy did?" said Parvati, shooting straight up in her chair._

_"Yes, dear. Let it go." said Trelawney, a small edge in her voice going unnoticed between the two, "Breathe in... Breathe out... Think about things that make you happy."_

_"We're trying," said Lavender._

_"But seriously," shrilled Parvati, "But two hours of listening to her bitch about all the things I've done to offend her. Like, I guess one time two years ago, I borrowed her hairbrush and didn't return it."_

_"She's in love with you." said Lavender, "Completely besotted, and she can't stand the fact that you're happier with your new friends than with her._

_"I know!" Parvati cried, "Oh! Did I mention that she was saying all of this in front of Daphne Greengrass, and I saw them kissing over by the Shrieking Shack two weeks ago? Can you believe how Daphne must have felt? She looked so uncomfortable."_

_"Oh, my God!" said Lavender, her mouth falling open, "What did I tell you? She's in love with you."_

_"Girls," said Trelawney, her normally floaty voice taking a hard edge, "This is not a time for gossiping. This is a time for consulting the Oracle and seeking answers from the dark corners of the Universe. But I can see that we are going to need a little help this afternoon. Now, Parvati, why is this making you so angry?_

_"Isn't it obvious? Because she's making me-" said Parvati before Trelawney coughed, stopping the tangent. Parvati breathed heavily for a few moments before continuing. "Because I feel like Pansy isn't listening to why I don't want to hang out with her."_

_"And I feel angry because Parvati is upset, and that makes me angry at Pansy on behalf of Parvati," said Lavender, grabbing Parvati's hand. At this, Parvati smiled and tightened their grip._

_"Good, now focus on the cause of your anger. Let yourself feel it for a moment. Breathe in... Breathe out… Ms. Parkinson hurt you, now let yourself process that." said Trelawney, her hands flat on the desk._

_Lavender followed her advice, meditating on the bitter, awful feeling that thinking about Pansy gave her. She did her best to breathe while she focused, smelling the perfume of Trelawney's incense, and the heat of the flickering fire._

_"Now, imagine that there is a river beside you." said Trelawney calmly, her whispery voice starting to hypnotize Lavender, "Breathe in… Breathe out… Keep focusing on those feelings, and let them go. Just dump them into the river, and let it wash them away."_

_With a thrust of her imaginary arms, Lavender flung those feelings into the river. She tried to imagine the water cleansing herself as well._

_Next to her, Parvati was having a rougher time of it. "Does this lead anywhere?" said Parvati, with a heavy sigh._

_"The Beyond does not speak to you unless you're quiet enough to hear it." said Trelawney, " This includes the thoughts in your head. You must clear your mind if you wish to have a successful scrying session."_

_Parvati gave another heavy sigh but continued nonetheless with the breathing exercises. She was still clutching Lavender's hand in a vice-like grip, with her nails starting to dig into Lavender's skin. Over the next few minutes, however, her grip started to relax._

_Ten minutes later, Trelawney started to shuffle her tarot cards again._

_"Are our energies calmed down?" said Trelawney, placing the well-shuffled deck onto her desk._

_"I think so," said Lavender, then glanced at Parvati._

_Parvati's lipgloss was smudged from biting her lip, and her eyeliner had streaked down her face. She looked a fair pathetic sight. Trelawney tutted, and handed her a handkerchief which Parvati accepted with a sniffle. After Parvati had finished cleaning herself up Lavender reached over to hug her._

_"I think so too," said Parvati, then sat up in her chair, giving a final hard sigh. 'I can't do anything to change Pansy. She's her own person, and if she insists on staying in her parents' cult, that's her problem." Her lips quivered, "It's just really hard, because she used to be my best friend, and she's in so much pain, and I want to help her. But then she goes and… I just don't understand. Why? Why does she have to be so completely mental?"_

_Parvati set her free hand on Trelawney's desk, which Trelawney covered comfortingly. "Fights between friends can be very hard… How about I make us some tea? Does Earl Gray work?"_

**Chapter Five: In Which Lavender Finds a Card on the Floor**

If ice were brown, Lavender imagined it would greatly resemble Hermione's eyes. They burrowed into her skin like shoots of freezing rain as Hermione glared daggers at her from across the Gryffindor common room. Lavender tried not to let it get to her as she laid out the Tarot cards in front of Ron on their table.

 _She's just jealous because Ron likes spending time with you,_ thought Lavender. _Breathe in… Breathe out…_ Lavender glanced at Hermione, and as she was imagining throwing all her anger down the river, she realized that with her bushy hair and cross eyes, Hermione greatly resembled a rather wild-looking, angry cat.

The thought made Lavender grin, which only served to irritate Hermione further, demonstrated by her growling and slamming her book closed. starting to angrily knit the start of a fairly lumpy hat.

Still grinning, Lavender began to spread out three Tarot cards for Ron.

"All right, first one," Said Lavender, flipping over the first card, "First… It looks like we have the Wheel of Fortune."

"What's that?"

"Indicator of change," said Lavender, giving him what she hoped looked like a flirty smile. It probably just looked like a deformed wince, "Something is going to happen in your life to change it for the better."

"Nice, maybe Fred and George'll finally let me in on what they've been doing in their bedroom all summer." joked Ron.

Lavender wasn't sure what to make of that comment, but glanced at said twins who were bent over a piece of parchment, muttering to themselves, "Next…" she continued, "The Fool. It just means that you have new beginnings and new experiences ahead of you." Lavender attempted the flirty smile again and was rewarded by Ron turning an alarmingly deep shade of red.

"Ahem… So what's next," said Ron, his voice cracking.

Lavender flipped the card over before dramatically declaring, "Death,"

The effect was not what she intended.

She had thought that Ron would laugh and joke alongside her, but instead the relaxed look he had been sporting all night disappeared. He tensed, bearing a remarkable resemblance to Harry during Moody's first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

"How bad is that?" said Ron, sounding a bit worried.

"It's not bad," said Lavender, trying to be reassuring, "It's just another indicator of change, rather than a death omen." Lavender examined the card, looking to steer the topic to something else to try and distract Ron from his obvious discomfort, "It's in the reverse position… Hmmm… Are you resisting a change in your life?"

It worked.

"Pfft…" Ron turned red once more and refused to meet her eyes as Lavender giggled and reached for his hand. She found it, causing Ron's blush to deepen to a shade of red that Madame Puddifoots often sported for Valentine's decorations last year.

Hogsmeade. They had a trip coming up soon. She wondered for a split second if Ron would ask her, then shook her head. _This is silly,_ thought Lavender, _He's too shy. He could barely ask me to help him with homework._

"Ron," said Lavender, touching Ron's shoulder with her hand, "We should go out together during the next Hogsmeade trip."

Suddenly, Ron began choking on his eggs. "Hogs- What- Go-?" gasped Ron, before Harry began pounding him on the back. Once Ron had managed to clear his throat, he spoke again. " Go…Go to Hogsmeade with you?"

"Yes. We could get some tea at Madame Puddifoots," said Lavender, thinking about the cozy little tea shop. It was quieter than the Three Broomsticks, and both she and Parvati had enjoyed sitting down for a cup of tea and pastries there during their Hogsmeade trips last year.

"Er…" said Ron, his face turning redder by the second. "Yeah… Sure,"

Butterflies danced inside of Lavender's stomach. She beamed, squealing in excitement, then jumped up and hugged Ron in a tight grip.

"That's wonderful!" said Lavender, excitedly, releasing Ron. "I'm so happy, and we'll have so much fun together, I just know it!"

"Ahem,"

Next to them, Harry coughed, reminding Lavender that he was sitting there as well. His eyes were bright next to the crackling fire, glancing back and forth between her, Ron, and Hermione. Next to him sat Parvati who was currently deeply engrossed in embroidering tiny beaded, gold bees onto a fat quarter of black, silk gossamer.

Later that night, Lavender lay in bed trying to sleep with thoughts of Ron's blushing cheeks, ginger hair, and blue eyes swirling through her head.

 _How will the Hogsmeade date go? Oh no, what am I going to wear? What if my regular clothes aren't cute enough?_ The thoughts started spilling into Lavender's head without any sign of stopping. _Am I being too forward? Do boys like it if you're forward? What if…_

_Breathe in… Breathe out…_

With great effort, Lavender shut her eyes tightly and did her best to force her spiraling emotions into order.

Her attempts proved in vain for the most part, however. It was not until Lavender rolled over at half past midnight and her eyes settled on the paper with her Arithmancy notes from earlier on her bedside table that she finally managed to stop worrying about her date.

Lavender climbed over her bed and dug through her chest for her Divination books. She leafed through the index, looking for anything that might help her solve what had happened earlier that night.

Two hours later, after scouring her book index, and leafing through chapters, Lavender was forced to abandon the search for that night, and try for sleep once again.

Lavender closed her eyes, relaxing her mind and searching for the purple and blue smoke behind her eyes.

_Breathe in… Breathe out…_

Something scaly and warm slid up her bed, and then licked her ear. Lavender's eyes shot open and she jumped out of bed.

"Ayee!" shrieked Lavender, staring at her bed on which a large python was lying. Neither Parvati, not Hermione stirred. "Parvati, Hermione!"

There was no response. A clock sunken into the bedpost caught Lavender's eyes.

**5:23**

Lavender blinked.

**5:14**

She did a quick reality check, and when her index finger passed right through her palm, Lavender felt the same elation she had felt just weeks before.

She smiled, and from the corner of her eye she saw, felt really, a pale blue light erupt from her right side, in the middle of the Fourth Year girls dorm. It was a Will-o'-the-Wisp, a ball of pale blue floating fire, said to lead travelers to their doom.

Like the snake, she felt something flick past her ear, though this time it was like a whispered giggle. The Will-o'-the-wisp flickered, reappearing at the door like a tease. **_Come, follow me_** _,_ thought the fire, more than it said. It was trying to tempt her. Lavender stayed put, trying to resist, but felt drawn to follow.

Her feet moved like lead weights, but she plowed through, following the Will-o'-the-Wisp through the door and common room, the portrait hall and corridors, until finally, she arrived in front of the double doors that led to the Great Hall. On the floor directly before her was a card.

She flipped it.

Wheel of Fortune. Reversed. Bad Luck.

Footsteps echoed through the corridors. A figure with shadows bouncing off of him limped towards her. Though her heart pounded against her chest, Lavender stood her ground. This was a dream. This was her Domain. She could not be harmed.

It was unneeded, however. The shadowy figure pulled the doors of the Great Hall open and limped his way past the long tables and towards the Goblet of Fire that sat behind Dumbledore's Age Line. His bad leg made massive clunk when he adjusted himself, pulling out a wand, and dropped a piece of paper into the goblet before shouting, "Confundo!"

**KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!**

Lavender jumped, turning around towards the Great Hall doors from which the knock had come. At the Goblet, the shadowy figure disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

Heart racing, Lavender walked towards the door. The knocks had been for her. A million thoughts raced through Lavender's head as she thought about the multiple reasons for the three knocks. Ultimately, they vanished like the shadowy figure had when she opened the doors, feeling like a fool.

Before her was a cloud of black butterflies, their wings shimmering in the milky moonlight that shone in from the Great Hall. In the center lay her own dead body, covered in dirt with her throat slashed and her eyes open, her stare as wide as saucers.

...

As quickly as sleep had come, the waking world came faster.

Lavender jolted awake, feeling a stabbing pain in her head. Trying not to let her hands shake too much, she wrote down as much as she could remember. She felt her ear, still able to feel the python's tongue. Somehow, it felt like something worse than the cloud of black butterflies, like it was a curse that had just been bestowed upon her.

A long snore sounded from Hermione's bed where Lavender was met with the familiar sight of Hermione lying on her bed, surrounded by books and parchment. It probably would have made Lavender smile fondly if they weren't fighting. It almost did.

Growling with frustration, Lavender finished writing and left the room, leaving her journal open and next to the Arithmancy paper on her bedside table.

Downstairs, Lavender found Ron with Harry in the Great Hall, watching several students putting their names in the Goblet of Fire. The flames flickered inside the ancient wooden cup, crackling merrily. They reminded her of how they had looked as they ate the paper the shadowy figure placed in the cup in her dream.

Not wanting to think of the awful image of her body lying on the cold stone floor with a bleeding slash cut into her throat, Lavender pushed the thought out of her head, and smiled brightly at Ron, giving him an excited wave. He smiled back over a plate of eggs and sausage.

"Won-Won!" squealed Lavender, not entirely sure where the nickname came from. Rather, it simply burst enthusiastically from the depths of her far too excitable soul. She sat down next to him, and grabbed his arm, pulling it close.

Ron did not seem to know how to react to this. "Wha-?" Just then, his attention was directed at the Great Hall's entrance where Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were all laughing and holding slips of papers.

"Did it!" said Fred, "One drop of Aging Potion each. Only need to be a few months older."

While she wasn't too sure the Aging potion would work, as she had the feeling Dumbledore would have been prepared for underaged students trying to sneak behind the Age Line, she eagerly watched the twins stepped through the line, and place their names in the goblet. They whooped with joy, but after a moment they were jolted out of the line with a loud sizzling noise, and identical beards appeared on each of their faces with a 'pop'.

Lee started howling with laughter, to which the twins responded by chasing him out of the hall, long white beards flapping behind them.

Lavender was laughing too, alongside Ron who looked like he might fall out of his stool, taking in the Halloween decorations.

"Serves them right," said Angelina Johnson with a grin, sitting down at the table after putting her name in the goblet, her long, locked hair swung over her shoulder, "Dumbledore put that Age Line there for a reason. There were a lot of nasty deaths in the tournament before it was ended in the 18th century. Dumbledore doesn't want underage wizards dying and getting the school into trouble. I can see the headlines now, 'Hogwarts: Wizard School, or Gladiator Camp? Read more on page seven to find out!'"

It was a funny picture and Lavender couldn't help but give another laugh at the image.

While she was spacing out, a small furry head pushed its nose into Lavender and Ron's clasped hands, obviously looking for breakfast.

It was Sorrel.

It would not be accurate to say that Lavender cried out. It was more of a loud, piercing shriek that reverberated through the Great Hall, turning the heads of much of the student body. Lavender also turned her head, but only because she had jumped back so suddenly that she had fallen onto the floor.

"Oof," said Lavender, getting to her feet quickly while trying to ignore the students who had started to laugh, though not quite as hard as earlier.

"You okay?" said Ron, looking concerned, and putting Sorrel on his shoulder where she would be in plain view. For this, Lavender was thankful. No more surprise rat sniffles.

"Yes," said Lavender, giving a small laugh, though her heart was not in it, and sitting back on her stool. "Was a little unexpected."

"I'll say," said Ron, he coughed, "Sorrel's really nice, though. She won't nip you if that's what you're worried about."

"Thanks," said Lavender, hoping her voice didn't sound nearly as flat as it seemed.

She held her hand out to the rat perched neatly on Ron's shoulder. Gone was the nervous, tiny, ball of fur, ears, and tail. She had been replaced by a pudgy, slightly older rat whose dark fur had grown much sleeker, and her white rings that surrounded both her eyes were much more prominent. Her ears looked less awkward as well, though they still looked odd as they sat much lower on her head than most rats, and were rather large.

'Where'd you find her anyways?" said Ron as Sorrel sniffed Lavender's finger. She pulled her hand back suddenly, hating the way her muscles had tensed like a rubber band.

"She ran into my house. Parvati, Padma, and I captured her with brooms and a bucket. I was going to release her a few houses down, but then I-" Lavender stopped, suddenly feeling quite nervous, "Well, Parvati mentioned how excited you would be if you had been there and… Well…"

"Thanks," said Ron, his smile brightening, and he sat up a little straighter. "Hey, do you play chess?"

Chess… "No," said Lavender, she shifted uncomfortably, "Maybe you could teach me."

"Sure!" said Ron, he then held his hand up about a half foot from the shoulder Sorrel was perched on, "Hey, wanna see a trick?"

Lavender licked her lips, and steadied her breathing, "Sure,"

_Breathe in… Breathe out..._

"Sorrel," said Ron, "Jump!"

Sorrel leaped from Ron's shoulder to his hand and was rewarded with a small bit of egg.

"Oh...Neat," It was not insincere. She was also almost certain that Ron had meant for it to help ease her fears, but it had the opposite effect. She stood up and away from the table. "I'm sorry…" said Lavender, hating how upset Ron looked.

She wanted to find Parvati.

"I have to go…" said Lavender, her voice becoming very quiet at the end of the statement.

She turned towards the double doors of the Great Hall, and fled.

Her thoughts wandered to last year around this time when Pansy had reached out to Parvati, seemingly out of wanting to rekindle their friendship. _If that had been what Pansy intended, she had gone about it the wrong way. Listing off everything bad thing about a person is a great way to make friends…_ thought Lavender sarcastically.

 _Speak of the devil…_ In the courtyard, Lavender found Parvati engaged in a tersely civil conversation about something Celestina Warback had said with Pansy and Daphne Greengrass. It looked sweet on the surface, but something about their too friendly postures seemed off and unnatural. Pansy narrowed her eyes and sent her a nasty glare when Lavender approached, flaring her nostrils as if she had just smelled something foul.

"Well, this was a lovely chat," said Pansy, not sounding at all genuine, "I need to go."

With a flourish, Pansy spun around and marched back into the castle. Daphne studied her for a minute before she made a tiny gasp and said, " Oh! I nearly forgot. Lavender, thank you for taking Draco to the Hospital Wing a few weeks ago. I'm not sure if he has said anything, but if he hasn't, thanks."

Her tone was dispassionate and noncommittal, leaving the impression that the thanks had been done as a matter of polite civility. The effect it had on Parvati was, however, instantaneous.

"Wait," said Parvati, "When did this happen?"

"When Moody turned him into a ferret and flung him down the hallway," said Daphne, frowning, "Messed up his back in a terrible way. And to make matters worse, his father is refusing to try to touch Moody, unlike with that Hagrid business last year."

"Why?" said Lavender, feeling quite confused. The way Draco spoke of his father, one would think the man would do anything for his son.

"Because," said Daphne, with a detached air, "Lucius Malfoy doesn't care about anyone but Lucius Malfoy. Trying to get Hagrid sacked last year was something he did because it was easy, and would have made him look like he was getting rid of a 'dangerous and irresponsible' teacher. He had nothing to lose, and everything to gain."

"What about Moody?" said Lavender,

Daphne rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and adjusted her stance, "Professor Moody is a respected war veteran, and nearly put Mr. Malfoy in Azkaban. Unless Draco is injured in some irrevocable way, Mr. Malfoy isn't going to touch him with a ten-foot pole. Besides, Madame Pomfrey put his spine right in about an hour. He was right as rain before dinner." Daphne paused, then flared her nostrils, not unlike Pansy had minutes before, "It was close, though."

"How bad was it?" said Parvati, her eyes wide.

"Snape sent Pansy and me to get him from the Hospital Wing," said Daphne, her flat, even tone never lifting, "I heard Madame Pomfrey telling him she was surprised he managed to walk there. Something about spraining L7 and L6, as well as something to do with C3?" She blinked, fluttering her eyes, then said with a wispy air, "Not that I would have any idea what that meant."

By now, Parvati's eyes were nearly bugging out of their sockets. She seemed to grasp the meaning, though the significance as to what Daphne meant was lost on Lavender. "Merlin," said Parvati, then explained, "Hermione mutters while she reads at night. It's the vertebrae in the lower back. C3 is near the neck, I think."

"Oh," said Daphne, then lifted her chin. Her eyes changed and Lavender got the sense that there was more to her words.

"Daphne! Come on!" Pansy's sharp voice carried through the courtyard, the piercing tone making Daphne roll her eyes once again. There was something about what Daphne had just shared that caused Lavender unease, however.

"You're being summoned," said Parvati, wincing.

"Goodbye," said Daphne, lifting her chin higher, and hiding a smirk. She flounced towards Pansy, taking her hand and walking into the castle.

"I do not _mutter_ ," said Hermione, from behind them, causing Parvati to yelp and Lavender to jump.

"How long have you been lurking there?" said Lavender, folding her arms crossly.

"Long enough to know that Professor Moody nearly paralyzed Malfoy," said Hermione, "And you do realize that Daphne was playing you, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"L6, L7, and C3?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows. "Those are some rather specific details, and accurate ones too, I'd bet. I'm partners with her in Arithmancy; the girl does her homework. My guess is she's trying to raise sympathy for Malfoy in the hopes that she can rattle Moody's image, given that Malfoy's complaint went nowhere."

"Oh," said Parvati, "That's…"

"Manipulative?" said Hermione, shrugging, "It's very manipulative, but that's how Daphne and Pansy work. I'd bet money Pansy is in on the gimmick, too." She turned to Lavender, "Speaking of Arithmancy… is this yours?"

She held up Lavender's Arithmancy paper, her expression unreadable. Lavender glared, feeling a bit irritated that Hermione would go through her things.

"Yes," she said, grabbing the page, "Why are you going through my things?"

"I didn't go through your things," said Hermione, her eyes flashing, "The room was stuffy when I woke up, so I opened the window. A gust of wind came in and blew it away. Didn't know if it was yours or Parvati's."

"Whatever," said Lavender hotly, spinning around and starting to march towards the castle.

"So what sparked your interest in Arithmancy anyways?" said Hermione, walking with her, her tone tight and hostile, "I mean, you seemed to be doing so well with Tarot cards and dream interpretations."

If Lavender had something in her arms at that moment, she would have thrown it. Instead, as she was carrying nothing, she had to resort to angrily stomping her feet on the ground like a child.

"Oh, you are such a hypocrite!" shouted Lavender, causing Hermione to flinch backward, "You've been poking fun at Divination for ages, but as soon as I try my hand at something that you approve of- ergh!"

_Breathe in… Breathe out…_

Lavender tried to calm herself, but at that point, much like Parvati last year, she was simply too worked up for anything in her arsenal to work.

"I only meant-" started Hermione, only for Lavender to interrupt her.

"Oh, I know perfectly well what you meant! Why don't you stop being such a prideful know-it-all for once, and admit that you're jealous!"

"Would both of you just stop?"

Parvati cut in between the two of them, her braid swinging behind her, it's motion as turbulent as the three of them felt.

The three of them stood there quietly for a good minute until Hermione drew a breath. For a split second, it looked like she was going to say something, but instead, Hermione turned around and fled towards the castle grounds, in the direction of Hagrid's cabin. So, Lavender angrily crumpled up her Arithmancy paper and shoved it in her pocket.

_Breathe in… Breathe out..._

Adrenaline flooded her veins, preparing her for a fistfight that never happened. _How come I never seem to know when to shut up?_ Lavender berated herself angrily.

Next to her, Parvati was stewing silently.

"Did you have to-"

"I know, Parvati," snipped Lavender, "But she started it!"

"He's a boy. A stupid fourteen-year-old boy!" Parvati gestured widely, "If you two can't learn to share him, just…"

"He's not interested in her, Parvati!" said Lavender, "He likes me. I shouldn't be punished for that."

"I'm not saying she's not being unreasonable," moaned Parvati, "I'm just saying… I just- Is he worth it, Lavender? Because while I regret that Pansy and I aren't friends anymore, I'd still choose you two again in a heartbeat. Can you say the same about Ron?"

With that final word, Parvati stormed off into the castle, leaving Lavender alone with only her thoughts.

_Breathe in… Breathe out..._

It was only then that Lavender realized she was so busy gossiping, and then fighting with Hermione she had forgotten to tell Parvati the news about her date.

...

Lavender loved Halloween. It was the perfect excuse to wear something silly and frivolous.

Something like fluffy, pastel purple cat ears.

However, this year it didn't feel the same. Lavender spent most of the rest of the day sulking behind her bed curtains in her dorm. She heard Parvati come in for a few minutes, long enough to change into her school robes for the feast. Hermione never reappeared.

Once dinner arrived, Lavender ventured back downstairs and into the Great Hall. It wouldn't do to not attend. She found Parvati sitting next to Seamus and Dean, looking as miserable as she had last year after Pansy's two-hour rant.

It was like a brick had been thrown in Lavender's face. Last year she had felt unbelievably protective of Parvati, but how do you protect someone when the cause of their pain is yourself? Shame flooded over Lavender, making her soul feel black with the guilt.

"I'm sorry," said Lavender squeezing into a spot next to Parvati. "I'll cancel the date I have with Ron."

Parvati's eyes watered up, "You have a date with Ron?"

Lavender nodded, "I asked him to Madame Puddifoots before the fight earlier,"

"I don't want you to cancel," said Parvati, "You're crazy about him, and it would just make you miserable. I only want you and Hermione to talk this out, and stop fighting."

"I'll try," sniffed Lavender, then locked Parvati in a tight embrace.

"I like your ears, by the way."

Laughter bubbled its way out of Lavender's chest, lifting her spirits, and making the world seem brighter. The laughter stopped when she heard Seamus speak across the table.

"What's wrong with Hermione?"

Parvati looked up, and Lavender looked over her shoulder to see Hermione entering the Great Hall, looking like she was walking through mud. Her hair was a mess, and her eyes were red and puffy. In total, she looked just as anguished and tired as Lavender and Parvati felt.

When Hermione saw them, she began to walk in a beeline towards their spot, but suddenly Dumbledore took the podium. When he motioned for the hall to quiet, Hermione made a little squeak and sat down next to Ginny Weasley and Eloise Midgen.

The feast seemed to last forever. Lavender wasn't sure if it was because it was the second feast in as many days, or it was because of the atmosphere of excitement and impatience the student body gave off, or it was the guilt she felt in regards to her relationship with Hermione, but she could barely seem to bring herself to eat.

 _I called her a Know-It-All…_ Each one of them had a topic or words that were off-limits. For Parvati, it was bringing up the fact that she saw Hermione and Lavender more than her twin sister, and that despite her insistence that Pansy was no longer her friend, she still hung out with her whenever Pansy wanted to. For Hermione, it was calling her a Mudblood or Know-It-All. _What have I done?_

Finally, right before Lavender felt she might dissolve into an emotional basket case right there in the Great Hall, Dumbledore once again called them to attention as the golden plates cleaned themselves of food.

"The goblet is very nearly ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore, "When the champions' names are called, please walk to the front of the Hall, and into the chamber to the right of the staff table. You will receive further instructions there."

With a flourish, Dumbledore waved his wand. All at once, the thousands of floating candles extinguished themselves, leaving the Great Hall lit only by the lights in the floating pumpkins, and the moon and stars above the enchanted ceiling. The fire crackling in the Goblet of fire seemed to shine brighter and brighter and brighter, the blue flames becoming almost painful on Lavender's eyes.

Then, the flames turned red and the goblet spate out a small, charred piece of paper only for it to be caught by Dumbledore.

With a resolute voice, Dumbldore announced, "The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!"

Lavender saw Viktor Krum leave the Slytherin table and then walk towards the chamber Dumbledore had indicated as thunderous applause practically shook the Hall.

"Bravo, Viktor!" Karkaroff bellowed, clapping loudly for the entire Hall to hear.

Once the noise had settled, the cup once again turned bright blue, and then red. Another charred piece of paper was spat out, only for Dumbledore to catch. "The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

"Aw," said Parvati over the applause as a girl with silvery blonde hair practically floated up into the chamber, "Marius will be so disappointed."

'Disappointed' was a bit of an understatement. Many of the unselected Beauxbatons students look to be on the verge of tears. At the Ravenclaw table, Lavender could see the handsome Marius holding his head in his hands, looking distraught. Padma tried to comfort him by rubbing his back, looking a bit awkward.

Once again, the goblet turned blue and the air in the Hall became thick with tension as students fixed their attention on the sparkling cup. It turned red, then spat out another charred paper that Dumbledore caught.

"The Hogwarts Champion," Dumbledore called out, then paused dramatically, "Is Cedric Diggory!"

A handsome boy from Hufflepuff stood up to deafening applause.

The Hufflepuff table was beside themselves with excitement. They stood up, roaring their approval as Cedric walked up to the front of the hall with a beaming grin, disappearing into the chamber.

It took a good five minutes for the ruckus to die down, and once more Dumbledore began to speak. Only before he could begin he was interrupted once more.

For a fourth time that night, the flames inside Goblet of Fire had turned blue, then red.

Down the table, she saw Harry shrink down in his seat and groaned tiredly.

A charred piece of paper was spat out that Dumbledore caught. He unfolded it and there was a very long pause where the Hall was silent as Dumbledore stared at the paper in shock.

"Well?" said Karkaroff, "What is it?"

Dumbledore folded his hands, and his blue eyes fell on Lavender. In an instant, she felt a sharp, piercing pain practically splitting her head open. Dumbledore looked away and then cleared his throat, "Lavender Brown."


	6. AKA Cassandra's Curse

_Apple blossom petals floated in the air, dancing in the spring wind that blustered against the window shutters as if Zeus himself had decided he had a grudge against three-year-old Lavender's family's small Rutford cottage. Across the street, Lavender watched the neighbor's apple tree groan, bending almost in two in the wind storm. A blue flash split across the sky, lighting against the clouds._

_One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Lavender counted just like Daddy had taught her to._

_KABOOM!_

_Thunder cracked as if an angry monster had roared into the sky, shaking the house with the same ease that Lavender sometimes used on her dollhouse. Lavender screamed and dove under her bed. Moments later she heard her door creak open, and Daddy chuckled deeply as Mommy's heels clacked over the floor._

_"Lavvy, it's okay, the thunder can't hurt you," said Mommy, kneeling on the wooden floorboards. "Come on out. We can sit in the front room and listen to Daddy's - ugh - muggle vinyls."_

_"I like those vinyls,"_

_"And I'm so happy that you like them, dear."_

_Lavender poked her head out in time to see Daddy stick his tongue out at Mommy, then send her a wink. She giggled, the saw another blue flash and almost ran back for cover before Mommy pulled her out from under the bed and lifted her into her arms, balancing Lavender on her hip._

_KABOOM!_

_"Monster," said Lavender, burrowing her head into Mommy's shoulder when the thunder cracked again, so close it rattled the cottage._

_"Not a monster," said Mommy, "Just thunder. Come on, you're my brave girl. You can get through this. Rain, rain, go away. Come again some other day!"_

_"But I scared," Her face screwed up. She hated the loud wind and the scary monster in the sky. Her parents were brave. Not her._

**Chapter Six: In Which Lavender Trips Acid… Sort Of**

"Lavender Brown," said Dumbledore, once more, his voice clear and strong across the Hall, but Lavender could barely hear it. This is a mistake, thought Lavender as students started whispering. Parvati pinched her, jolting her from her thoughts.

Lavender turned to her, her eyes wide and desperate. Why was her name pulled from the goblet? She hadn't put her name in. Parvati shrugged helplessly but motioned for Lavender to stand up.

Further down the table, Lavender saw Hermione sitting, looking equally helpless as she covered her mouth with her hands. Ron and Harry were both staring at her, looking more shocked and confused than helpless. The whispers were getting louder by now.

"This has to be a joke," she heard a dark-haired Slytherin girl whisper as Lavender marched with weighted feet up to Dumbledore.

"Head into the chamber," said Dumbledore, touching her shoulder.

"I didn't-"

"Go into the chamber, Ms. Brown," said Dumbledore, his piercing blue eyes staring straight into Lavenders. She felt something like an invisible hand on her shoulder and heard a muddled whisper in her ear.

Lavender flinched away and turned down the staff table where she saw a young girl with long blonde hair much like her own, dressed in an old fashioned dress and waiting at the door. The girl gave a small smile, then headed into the Hall, leaving Lavender alone to walk into the chamber.

_Breathe in… Breathe out..._

_Didn't Angelina say people died in this tournament? That was the whole reason for the Age Line? Why would someone put my name in the Goblet? Surely, Dumbledore wouldn't let-_ Lavender's spiraling thoughts racing through her head were interrupted by Fleur Delacour striding up to her in the chamber she was sent to.

"Well, have you been sent to collect us?" said Fleur in a strong french accent.

It was then that Lavender realized she had lost the ability to speak. Suddenly, Dumbledore burst through the door. Close behind him, came Madame Maxime, and Karkaroff, their faces a cold mask of unbridled fury. Following them came two men that Lavender believed were Barty Crouch, and Ludo Bagman, the two men in charge of the tournament, with Crouch looking as stony as a statue, and Bagman sporting a wide, excited grin.

"What is the meaning of this, Dumbledore?" said Madame Maxime in an equally strong accent. " _Deux_ champions? I will not stand for this- _je ne vais pas_!"

"Extraordinary!" said Bagman. Lavender felt none of his cheer and was frankly quite miffed that her misery was being exploited for his enjoyment. "Stupendous! Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a fourth TriWizard Champion!"

"What do you mean?" said Fleur, then started speaking very fast french to her headmistress.

"Maxime and I were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants," said Karkaroff, crossing his arms. His eyes were cold and unyielding as he studied Lavender. She suddenly felt very stupid, standing there with fuzzy purple cat ears in her hair. Ironically, she had hoped they would lift her spirits after her fight with Hermione. "Obviously, this was a mistake on our parts."

"Karkaroff, if you think Ms. Brown did this on her own, you're sadly mistaken. Ms. Brown wouldn't have been able to fool the Goblet of Fire if her life depended on it," said Snape, gliding through the chamber door with McGonagall at his side, "Headmaster, this could not have been a student."

"I agree," said McGonagall. Her face lips were thinner than ever, and for the first time, Lavender saw her age showing on her face.

"Well, who else could it have been?" said Karkaroff, taking his steely gaze off of Lavender to direct it at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore stood in front of her, and once again, Lavender was met with his piercing gaze.

"Ms. Brown, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

Lavender shook her head. What's happening to me? This doesn't just happen to people. Under Dumbledore's stern stare she felt as small as she had been when she was just three years old and experiencing her first thunderstorm.

"I didn't," she insisted, though her voice barely registered over Krum and Fleur both giving their protests.

"Did you ask an older student to put your name in for you?" said Dumbldore, his voice still even and calm, but very firm.

"No!" said Lavender, feeling anything but calm and collected, "I didn't even want to compete. I don't like fighting. I'm not good at it!"

" _Pah_!" said Fleur spitefully, "She's obviously lying!"

" _I'm not lying!_ I didn't put my name in the goblet!"

"She could not have crossed the Age Line," said McGonagall, giving Lavender a sense of relief that the stern woman was on her side.

"Dumbledore could have made a mistake," said Maxime, with a dismissive shrug.

Dumbledore nodded in agreement, looking lost in his thoughts. "Anything is possible…"

 _No…_ thought Lavender, _No, you're supposed to say that you believe me. That I don't have to compete._

"This is ridiculous!" said McGonagall, marking the first time Lavender had ever heard her raise her voice. "You know quite well that you didn't make a mistake."

"Please," said Lavender, "You have to believe me, I didn't put my name in the goblet. I don't want to compete!"

"I believe you, Ms. Brown,"

"Mr. Crouch," said Karkaroff, his voice cutting across the chamber, "Mr. Bagman… Surely this is completely irregular?"

Bagman looked lost for words and started fumbling with a handkerchief. Crouch, who up until now had been lurking in the shadows of the chamber, stepped forward. The dark chamber cut sharp shadows across his face, and his resolute expression sent chills down Lavender's back. She knew what he was going to say before he had a chance to say it.

"The rules of the tournament are clear." said Crouch, "The Goblet of Fire chose her. She will have to compete."

"No!" said Lavender before anyone had a chance to respond. She was shaking now and could feel horrible, shameful, hot tears streaming down her face. "I don't want to! I didn't put my name in the goblet. It's not fair. _Please_ , Professor Dumbledore, there must be something that can be done!"

"The goblet creates a binding magical contract, girl." said Crouch, "There are no loopholes."

Dumbledore's face grew haggard, and Lavender turned to him expecting to hear a rebuttal. Instead, she found only a hard blank expression, and she felt herself turn as stiff as stone. She could dimly hear Karkaroff arguing with Crouch across the room over whether or not the other two schools could have more champions drawn, but it felt dim, and far away.

 _This can't be happening,_ Lavender thought. She felt like she had somehow accidentally stepped into an alternate dimension; one where terrible things happened to ordinary girls who didn't do anything wrong. _Except I did. Is this karma for what I said to Hermione? I didn't mean it._

"Ms. Brown?" said McGonagall gently, "Mr. Bagman is explaining the rules of the First Task. It would be wise to direct your attention to him,"

"Rules…?" gasped Lavender incredulously, realizing that she had started to forget to breathe. It seemed such an ordinary thing to say. But what was ordinary about this?

She took a step forward to where Bagman had gathered the other champions and felt the world fade to black.

Lavender woke up to chilly autumn air, and clear blue skies. Underneath her was something that felt like stone. When she stood up, she found that she was standing in what looked like a giant pit. Directly in front of her was a large wall that, when she touched it, felt like a sheet of glass. It hovered about a foot off the ground and seemed to follow her as she started walking around.

 _Where am I? How did I get here?_ Her mind felt foggy as she surveyed her surroundings. The pit looked like something you might find in a dog finding ring, only it was about a hundred times larger, and was mostly made of rocks, and metal spikes. Above the pit were stands filled with cheering teachers and students.

It seemed surreal; she had just been inside the castle, in a windowless chamber- at night. Now, it had to be at least mid-morning. She was starting to get the feeling that she was losing her mind. _Maybe I did step into an alternate dimension. That's what Hermione calls them, right? I wish she were here. She always seems to be prepared for any occasion._ But she wasn't here. Lavender looked into the stands, hoping to maybe see Hermione there, but found that the faces were completely blank.

 _I passed out. Am I dreaming? Is this going to be a regular thing?_ Lavender quickly tried a reality check but felt the panic come back when her hand stayed solid. _If it's not a dream, then what is it?_

She delved further into the rocky pit and found a small mountain of large white eggs that were each about the size of her head. At the top rested one single golden egg.

THUMP.

 _Oh, dear God in heaven,_ thought Lavender desperately. She turned around and found herself face to face with a dragon the size of three city busses, covered in iron-hard scales and spines the length of Lavender's body, walking around the large glass wall. It opened its mouth, revealing bone-white teeth ready to chop Lavender in two, and the last thing Lavender smelled was the scent of rotten eggs.

"Ms. Brown?"

Groggily, Lavender felt herself come to. She opened her eyes to see the handsome, yet worried face of Cedric Diggory.

"You don't need to call me Ms. Brown, Cedric. Just Lavender is fine," said Lavender, her voice feeling floaty and dreamy in the back of her throat. She moved around, wondering why the floor felt so warm and comfortable.

Cedric cracked a grin, "I think she's alright, Professor." said Cedric, throwing a glance over his shoulder to McGonagall. Lavender blushed, seeing that it had been McGonagall calling her name, and not Cedric. Behind McGonagall Lavender saw that Moody had joined the room.

Cedric adjusted himself, helping Lavender sit up. She blushed, somewhat embarrassed that she had made such a scene.

"Oh," said Lavender, climbing awkwardly out of Cedric's very comfortable arms and to her feet, to see the rest of the room standing around her. "Er- Thank you,"

"Ms. Brown, are you quite sure you're alright?" said McGonagall, sitting Lavender down on a chair by a rather disturbed looking Fleur. Viktor Krum looked equally troubled. "Professor Snape has left to fetch Madame Pomfrey. Perhaps you can rest at the Hospital Wing after we finish here."

"Yes," said Lavender, licking her lips nervously as she tried to brush McGonagall off. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have loved the attention being hoisted onto her. If Gryffindor Tower was known for anything, it was their boisterous parties, and Lavender felt most at peace surrounded by her friends and watching the ruckus her fellow Gryffindors made while celebrating. Right now, however, all Lavender wanted to do was get out of the chamber and curl up in her bed with her fluffy purple blanket, not a pressed, starched, white hospital bed. "I'm fine. Can we just get this over with?"

The image of the dragon pit stained itself into Lavender's memories.

Dumbledore studied her with his piercing blue gaze one more time, a curious expression passing over his otherwise unreadable face, before nodding to Bagman to continue giving them directions. A sigh of relief passed through Lavender's lips, and she tried to pay attention to Bagman as he explained the rules for the First Task.

They would be armed with only their wands.

_Breathe in… Breathe out…_

Her fingers clutched the fabric of her seat. It wasn't fair.

_Breathe in… Breathe out…_

They were not permitted to ask for help from their teachers.

_Breathe in… Breathe out…_

Something pricked at the base of her neck. It wasn't an icy cold glare that Karkaroff and Maxime had been giving her, nor was it worried and harried glances that McGonagall kept sending her way. This was white-hot fury.

She heard the clunk of a familiar bad leg behind her. Her heart stopped as everything clicked into place, only far too late. The card foretelling bad luck, the shadowed man with the bad leg, the butterflies of death-

It had been Moody who put her name in the Goblet of Fire.

Moody stood behind her pacing, spewing a wave of anger so intense that Lavender was surprised he didn't curse her right then and there.

 _Why? Why would he put my name in the goblet. What did I ever do to him?_ It was too late, it was far too late.

When they were finally dismissed Lavender stood up shakily while Fleur and Krum left with Maxime and Karkaroff. Conveniently, Madame Pomfrey had arrived with Snape by then. She clucked, her disapproval only too obvious when Lavender insisted on returning to her dorm but handed her a Sleeping Draught for her to take before bed.

"I want someone walking with her to the Gryffindor tower," said Madame Pomfrey, sending a heated glare at Dumbledore, "It wouldn't do for her to pass out again on a staircase, fall, and die before she's sent into battle."

"I'll take her," said Cedric,

"I'm fine, really," said Lavender, but it was no use.

"If you don't want to sleep in the Hospital Wing, I'm at least going to have you escorted to your common room," said Madame Pomfrey, tapping Lavender's head with her wand. Once she was satisfied she let Cedric lead her out the chamber.

Dumbledore followed them out, "Mr. Diggory, it is quite alright. I can take Ms. Brown."

Cedric nodded and left towards the Hufflepuff common room.

Their walk was silent as Lavender felt too exhausted to talk, and Dumbledore seemed to feel the same way.

"I didn't- I really didn't put my name in the goblet," said Lavender when they arrived at the Gryffindor portrait hole, not sure why she was still insisting it. At this point, it almost seemed pointless. She would have to compete regardless of whether or not anyone believed her.

"And as I said before, I believe you," said Dumbledore. He peered curiously at her. "The episode you just had- have you experienced anything like it before?"

"Yes, sir," said Lavender, "But only when I'm asleep. It was really weird. It was like I was having a dream about a dragon..."

Lavender had never seen Dumbledore look surprised, but she imagined it would look similar to his face right then, which resembled something like Crookshanks had when Parvati had startled him by placing a roll of socks down behind the cat. "I see," said Dumbledore a little too calmly.

"Professor," said Lavender, her voice cracking, "I'm- I'm going to be fine, right? I'm not in any danger, am I?"

There was a long pause before Dumbledore answered in a weary tone, "I'm afraid you're in more danger than you can realize, Ms. Brown." he paused for just a moment before, "And Ms. Brown, it would be best not to dwell on these dreams."

"But-"

"Go to bed, Ms. Brown." said Dumbledore, "Take your potion. The First Task is less than a month away. You'll need as much rest as you can get."

Lavender nodded, and for a second considered telling him about her dream with the shadowy figure that she now had a strong suspicion was Moody but decided against it. _I doubt he'd believe me. The only evidence I have is a dream. Besides, if Lucius Malfoy can't touch him, what could I possibly do?_ And so, she gave the Fat Lady the password and climbed through the portrait hole.

Inside the Gryffindor Common Room, Lavender found most of the House awake and enjoying what was possibly the biggest party she had ever seen in the four years she had attended Hogwarts. Music was blaring, streamers were being tossed, and upon entering the common room, cheers erupted from the crowd.

"And here is the Champion herself!" cried Fred,

"She isn't who we expected," George added, "But upon some thought, we've decided that there was no one better!"

It was just what she needed, Lavender decided. She could feel her anxieties and worries lifting by the second. Angelina Johnson handed her a cup with red liquid in it that, in Lavender's opinion tasted like cinnamon, cough syrup, and punch.

It wasn't a good flavor.

"I didn't put my name in the cup," said Lavender, sipping the drink again and shuddering when it burned her throat. _This is disgusting. Why are people drinking it?_

"Of course you didn't," said Angelina with a wink. She giggled uncharacteristically and let Fred twirl her around before he grabbed her by the waist and started to snog her. Not wanting to watch the two, Lavender scanned the room for Parvati and found her sitting next to Seamus who was engaged in what looked to be a very serious game of chess with Ron.

Leaving her cup of… whatever it was on a table, Lavender sat next to Ron who was so engaged in his game that he almost didn't notice her.

"Hey," said Lavender.

"Hm?" said Ron, then made a face, "Oh, hey! Did you try the punch?"

"Yes, it was…"

"Awful," said Seamus, "I think a saw Angelina pour a bottle of firewhisky in it."

"Ah," said Lavender, "That explains it. Is there any butterbeer?"

"Yes, actually," said Ron, then turned his head to look over Lavender's shoulder. She turned as well and saw Harry by a tub of butterbeer. "Harry, bring over one more butterbeer! Lavender, you're just in time. Watch me cream Seamus in three more moves."

"Mate, we just started," said Seamus with a sour face.

"Well…" said Ron, looking uncomfortable, "Lavender said she wanted to see how chess was played. Knight to E5,"

Ron's knight moved in an L-shape to capture one of Seamus's black pieces. Seamus quirked an eyebrow, "Mate, I think your girlfriend showing up has made you lose your touch. Bishop to D4. I just got your Queen."

"Because I wanted you to get my Queen," said Ron, grinning, "Bishop to F7. Check."

"Fuck," swore Seamus, "King to E7,"

"Knight to D5," said Ron, "Checkmate,"

"Bloody hell. I cannot believe you sacrificed your bloody Queen," said Seamus.

"Sometimes the Queen has to be sacrificed," said Ron, grinning.

Harry appeared right then, holding five butterbeers, then started handing them out. "Did I miss it?"

"Sorry mate," said Ron, "I couldn't help myself."

"Lavender showed up, and Ron decided he couldn't resist showing off, and make himself look like a bloody tit," snarled Seamus, then stalked off to a corner where Dean was sitting with his sketchbook after grabbing a butterbeer from Harry. After sitting down, he took something small out of his pocket and began tapping it with his wand.

"Sorry…" said Lavender, feeling a little guilty, "I made a mess of things,"

"No you didn't," said Ron, making a face at Seamus, "He's just being a sore loser. He's not usually that bad, though. I think that was just a one-off. How 'bout I show you how to play? You can tell me how you got your name in the goblet while I teach you."

"I don't know," said Lavender, "I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire."

"Do you know who did?" said Parvati.

"No…" said Lavender, shifting nervously, then decided to change the subject. "So… What did you just do to beat Seamus?"

"Baited him with my Queen, so that he didn't see me going after his King." said Ron, "See, the main objective with chess isn't collecting as many pieces as you can. The main objective of chess is to checkmate your opponent's King… And take as many pieces as possible along the way."

"Okay, so how do you play?"

Ron collected the pieces, which by now had repaired themselves, and reset them on the board. "I'll give you the advantage with White. Okay, pawns- first time you move them, they can go forward two squares, after that, it's one square. They can't switch rows unless they're attacking. And they can only attack diagonally. For example, move Pawn to E4."

"Pawn to E4," said Lavender, watching the White pawn move two spaces.

"Pawn to D5," said Ron, "Now you can attack me."

"Pawn to D5?" said Lavender with a bit of hesitation, then felt a bit more confident after her pawn broke the opposing pawn in half. Ron continued showing her the rules for a few more minutes, and though ordinarily, Lavender would have found it unbelievably boring, it felt nice to have something to concentrate on other than strange prophetic visions and her upcoming gladiatorial contest.

 _Why would Dumbledore just tell me not to worry bout my dreams? They seem like something to be worried about, especially if he believes I'm in danger… Could Moody be trying to hurt me? But why? Why would he..._ Lavender thought to herself as Ron reset the board so that they could play for real. _It doesn't make sense… This has to be some sort of mistake._ She glanced at Harry who had spent the better part of the last fifteen minutes sipping his butterbeer whilst throwing a mix of curious and concerned glances. _Harry spends a lot of time with Dumbledore… Maybe he'll know._

"Lavender," said Ron, "You can start the game now."

"Right," said Lavender, realizing that the game had been set up for a few minutes now, "Pawn… Pawn to D4." The words felt a bit hollow like she didn't realize she was saying them.

"Pawn to D5," said Ron lazily.

"I passed out in the chamber with the other champions," said Lavender, looking at the board. Something drew her eyes to the pawn next to the one she had just moved, " Pawn to E-4. I- uh, I got all worked up, I guess."

"Are you okay?" said Ron, his head shooting up, "Pawn to E-4,"

"Yah, but…"

"But what?" said Parvati, chewing on her lip.

"I had a really weird dream while I was unconscious," Lavender shook her head and nearly moved her pawn that was still standing one more square. Suddenly, something whispered into her ear like it was standing right next to her, drawing her eyes to the Queenside Knight. "Knight...to C3…" said Lavender, not sure why, but drawn to the piece.

There was a sharp laugh that rang out like a firecracker in a quiet room. Neither Parvati, Harry, or Ron seemed to notice. To her right, Fred and Angelina were now dancing in circles. The rest of the chatter seemed foggy, almost distilled.

"Knight to F6. Maybe Harry can help you," said Ron, nodding towards Harry, "He has a lot of weird dreams."

"This one had dragons," said Lavender, then heard the whisper once again, echoing against her eardrum. "And the other night I had a dream with Will-o'-'the-Wisps and I saw some shadowy figure putting a piece of paper in the cup and casting Confundo."

Harry drew his brows together, "That's definitely weird…"

"Could it be some sort of weird symbolism?" said Parvati, "Dragons can be a symbol for wealth, and challenges."

"The TriWizard tournament is definitely a challenge," said Ron, staring at the board and taping his fingers, "Pawn to F3,"

"But what about the shadowy figure?" said Lavender, watching the rest of the room and fighting the urge to run. Fred and Angelina no longer had faces. _What if it means I'm going mad. I must be. I'm hearing whispers, and now I'm seeing things._ "He literally put a slip of paper in the goblet, and cast a spell."

"But you said it was a dream," said Parvati, over another whisper that brushed at Lavender's ear and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Dreams just don't show things as they are."

"Yes, but this one did. Queen to F3," said Lavender, tapping her finger against the table, darting her eyes from the chess board and back to the rest of the common room. Now, no one had faces, and the lights seemed far too bright, and the chatter indistinguishable from echoes.

"But don't dreams have a lot of riddles in them?" said Ron, "Queen to D4,"

"Bishop to D3," said Lavender, noting that Ron's lips were pulled tight.

"We can meditate on it before we go to bed tonight," said Parvati, "I'm sure it'll help."

Lavender sighed, not as feeling confident as Parvati sounded, but she had to admit that it sounded relaxing. Across from her, Harry was staring into space, playing with his butterbeer cap. "I just… Do you think I'm going mad?"

**_CASTLE_ **

The voice sounded like music and felt like velvet, but it rang out in such a way that it made Lavender jump, a sudden movement that nobody seemed to notice. It spoke again, but this time Lavender could not make sense of anything it said. It simply continued to speak with a voice that made Lavender shut her eyes tight, wondering if that would stop the voice. _Would it look weird if I covered my ears?_ Trying to make it look as natural as possible, Lavender brought her hands up to her head, hunching over, and hoping that Parvati, Ron, and Harry wouldn't notice.

They didn't.

"Of course not, Lav," said Parvati, leaning forward with her butterbeer. "Maybe it's stress,"

"Right… Uh… Ron, What does it mean to Castle?"

"Oh, uh- Queen to B4. Well, you're actually set up to Castle on the Queen's side now." said Ron, "And I can explain the specifics a little later. If you're wanting to castle, just send your King to C3"

"Okay," said Lavender, rubbing her temples. Sleep was starting to sound pretty good. Before, the party was a wonderful distraction. Now, the noise from the music and students singing and dancing was starting to give her a headache. "King to C3," To her surprise, the Rook switched with the King as well. Across from her, Ron was staring hard, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

There was a long pause before Ron spoke, "Bishop to G4,"

Lavender watched the Bishop move, not sure what to do next until the voice spoke, **_Knight to B5…_**

"Knight to B5," said Lavender, barely breathing.

Ron glowered, "You're hustling me, and I don't appreciate it."

"No, I'm not," insisted Lavender, "I'm telling you- you know what? Never mind,"

Lavender stood up and walked to her dorm, drawing the curtains around her bed tight. _I'm not crazy_ , she told herself, _I'm not._

**_They will never believe you. It is the curse, passed down from times of old._ **

"Who are you?" said Lavender, her voice barely audible to even her. The world seemed to shift and it felt as though vertigo was setting in. She clutched her duvet in a vice-like grip. "Why are you showing me these things?"

**_Why not?_ **

"Surely you must have a reason," snipped Lavender, "Don't tell me that you give people visions for laughs,"

**_The Castle will burn._ **

"What does that mean?"

The voice did not reply to this. With growing frustration, Lavender huffed, "You can at least tell me what to call you."

**_You may call me Smintheus._ **

_Go away, Smintheus,_ thought Lavender, leave me alone.

All was quiet for a blissful moment. Lavender felt the world right once again, and the vertigo lift as she enjoyed the silent dorm. Then, once again the chatter returned. Lavender groaned and wasted no time in holding her hands tight over her ears, trying to block the noise.

"Lav?"

It was Parvati's voice. A soft hand covered her own, and Lavender opened her eyes to find herself where she was just minutes before.

"Parvati?" gasped Lavender. She looked down and saw the chessboard she and Ron had been playing with, only it had been reset to their starting positions. _What's happening? I was just in bed._

"Are you alright?" said Parvati, her brow furrowed with concern as she observed Lavender, "You went away for a few moments there."

"I did?"

"Yes," said Harry, "And you were tapping your finger against the table really fast."

Laughter cried out from her right. Lavender turned to see Fred and Angelina dancing in circles, just like she had seen minutes prior. Deja vu. _What's happening to me? I need to see Professor Trelawney. She'll be able to help me, I'm sure of it._

"Er-" said Lavender, glancing at Ron whose brow was also furrowed together. "I uh, I think I'm going to head to bed, actually. I'm tired." She stood up, feeling slightly shaky, but caught herself on Ron's shoulder.

"I'll walk you," said Ron, standing up. Then, he leaned in next to her ear and said in a concerned tone, "You sure you just sipped the punch?"

"Yes, a sip," said Lavender, licking her lips nervously for the second time that night. "It tasted like arse, so I didn't drink any more of it."

Parvati stood up with Ron, "I'll walk you, too."

"Parvati, it's fine." said Lavender, "I'm okay. Just tired."

The two of them walked up the spiral staircase to the Fourth Year girls dorm slowly as Lavender was still clutching Ron's shoulder, trying desperately not to fall over. The vertigo was coming back, only this time it felt different. It felt less like the world was rocking, and more like her head was being filled with a sleep fog that threatened to overtake her at any second, pulling her into a deep abyss.

 _Is any of this real? Am I really standing next to Ron right now, or is this another dream, or hallucination? Oh Ron, you sweet, sweet, man. Walking me back to my dorm, even though I must be acting like a crazy person._ Lavender giggled, unable to help herself, and felt Ron tense up next to her. She still felt the nerves from earlier, and now she couldn't tell what, if anything, was real or not. _Maybe all of this is just a dream. I'm not really a Hogwarts Champion. I'll wake up and this terrible nightmare will have never happened._ She giggled maniacally once again and felt Ron jump, then cough nervously.

"Will you be okay on your own from here?" said Ron, motioning at the door. "I can't follow. It doesn't let boys in…" Ron trailed off, staring at the door like he was lost in thought. Then he shook his head.

'Yes," said Lavender, almost on instinct.

"Is that a real 'yes'?" said Ron hesitantly, brushing a strand of hair past Lavender's ear with one hand, and grabbed her hand with the other.

"Oh, Won-won," said Lavender, leaning against him, hot tears streaming down her face once again. _I'm crying again. Why can't I stop crying? I don't want to cry. Ron will think I'm some stupid, little girl who can't take care of herself. Oh god, and that nickname I've given him probably doesn't help matters..._ "What am I going to do? I don't want to compete. I never wanted to compete. And Crouch won't let me back out!"

There was a heavy sigh, "No idea, Lavender," said Ron, hugging her back after a moment of deliberation.

"But it's more than that," said Lavender, "You're not going to believe me. I don't have any proof, but…"

"But what?"

"I think it was Moody," said Lavender, "I had a dream. This shadowy figure with a bad leg put a slip of paper in the cup. And I saw Moody tonight in the chamber with the other champions. He was so angry. I could feel it coming off him. And I've been having other weird dreams, and- and visions. Like tonight, I had a vision where I was fighting a dragon. Ron, I-"

Lavender shifted so that she was looking into his eyes again. She expected to see him looking down on her like she was as weak as she felt, but there wasn't any hint of it in his face. Instead, it was guarded and uncomfortable, like he wasn't sure how to act at that moment. Lavender wasn't sure if it was better.

She didn't know how to act either.

That may have been why she decided to bounce up on her toes and kiss him right there in the darkened staircase. It was a desperate bid for something concrete to grab onto. To help reassure herself that what she was seeing and feeling was real. It was a wet kiss; likely due to her having just been crying. But the feeling of butterflies dancing in her stomach when Ron kissed back and moved his hand from hers, up her arm and around her back, holding her close until he pulled away helped to center her, at least for a moment.

"Er," said Ron, blinking fast and turning red, "Well- Lavender, you should get some sleep. I promise I'll look for something to help you. Maybe Dumbledore could help, too."

"What about Moody?"

"I- I'll talk to Harry. Lavender, I don't know anything about dreams." said Ron, wringing his hands through his hair, "He knows more about dreams than I do."

"I know about dreams. Ron, this wasn't a normal dream. Please, you have to believe me." said Lavender, wondering why Ron would be deferring to Harry Potter, a boy who could barely manage the simplest Divination. It was mildly insulting.

"Lavender, trust me. Harry gets weird dreams, too," said Ron, grabbing her arms. "Look, it might not be what you think it is…"

Nothing else had to be said. Lavender could imagine what he would say next.

"Goodnight," said Lavender, pulling away as well. She walked through the door, slamming it shut before throwing off her clothes and climbing into her pajamas, then pulled her bed curtains tightly shut, and collapsing on her bed.


	7. AKA Frickity Heck

_Sometimes life isn't fair. Sometimes life throws you for a loop and gives you a puzzle you can't quite figure out._

_Parvati's relationship with Pansy Parkinson was one of those things._

_Pansy Parkinson seemed to possess the ability to make Parvati forget all the awful things she had ever done with a flutter of her eyes and a flip of her hair. A few sweet words were all it took, and Parvati was under her thrall once again. For her life, Lavender couldn't figure it out._

_Christmas break had come and gone. The three of them- Padma, Parvati, and Lavender- were on the train ride home when a quiet knock rapped on the compartment door. It was Pansy Parkinson, bundled in a pink woolen coat that looked as if it had been tailor-made, with Daphne Greengrass in tow behind her. She pulled the door open, not waiting for an invitation, and sat down on one of the benches with Daphne guarding the door outside. Her hair was cut to just past her chin with her bangs an inch above her eyebrows, emphasizing her pixie-like features, holding a beautifully wrapped box the size of Lavender's fist in her hands._

_"Hello," said Pansy, with an uncharacteristically regretful expression. "Can we talk? In private?"_

_To Lavender's relief, Parvati shook her head. She had not forgotten the 'lecture' Pansy had given her just a few weeks before. "Anything you have to say, you can say in front of Padma and Lavender."_

_A scowl started to grow over Pansy's face, but she quickly gained control of it, changing it into a pained smile. She stuck her chin in the air, making her look like a waif that had far too much self-importance._

_"Did you get my letter?"_

_"Yes." Parvati's voice was stilted, and her dark eyes colder than Lavender had ever seen them, focusing on Pansy, and causing her to shrink back with a slight flinch._

_"Parvati, I- I'm sorry… I don't know why I-" The words came out in such a way that seemed alien for Pansy Parkinson._

_"Apology accepted," said Parvati cooly, and not at all genuinely, "And I already told you- Theodore Nott's father couldn't resurrect a housefly, let alone You-Know-Who."_

_"Er…" Lavender coughed, "Could someone let me in on what's happening? I feel a bit like a third wheel."_

_"That's because you are a third wheel," sneered Pansy, "But fine, I'll dish you in. I heard from Theo this summer that his father has been… experimenting with some particularly nasty rituals. He's terrified that his father wants to try to bring back the Dark Lord, or at the very least going mad. According to Theo, Mr. Nott's been talking to rats. And like usual, the Ministry is much more concerned with burying their heads in the sand, rather than facing the fact that they are next to ineffective at enforcing their own laws."_

_"So the Ministry knows that Nott's father is trying to bring back You-Know-Who?" said Lavender. When Pansy shrugged with a dishearted air, she bit back the urge to glower._

_"If they don't know, then they're stupid, and if they do know then they're not doing anything about it. Either way, I don't trust them. The Dark Lord is gaining more of his old followers back by the week. I'd bet that by the middle of our fifth year, we'll be seeing muggle hunting again." Pansy handed the gift to Parvati, and if Lavender didn't know better, she would have thought her tone was pleading when she said, "I told you all this once before- when we were children; it's only a matter of time before the Ministry falls to the Dark Lord again. Please, Parvati, make sure you're on the right side when that happens."_

_Parvati took the gift, "And I've told you before, Pansy; I am on the right side. Are you?"_

_"Would my answer matter?"_

_With that, Pansy left slamming the compartment door closed._

_"Well, that was certainly informative…" said Padma, "Parvati, what letter was this?"_

_Parvati just rolled her eyes and threw the gift at Lavender, "Lav, you can have that. I don't want it. Whatever it is, she probably stole it. Spider silk spinning, scheming, and shoplifting; those are the only three things she's good at." She paused, then said to Padma, "And the letter doesn't matter, Padma. Pansy is making up stories, like usual. She's been obsessed with Mr. Nott since we were children. Don't trust anything she says, it's all a ploy for an elaborate scheme that will benefit only her. I-I need some air."_

_Parvati stood up, wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweater, and opened the compartment door. She paused. Her body was as tense as a stretched rubber band and edging towards the left side- the direction which Pansy had taken. Padma began to rise as well. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Parvati shook her head, and went to the right, towards the back of the train while wiping her cheek once more._

_With a heavy heart, Lavender stood up with Padma to follow Parvati._

_It wasn't fair._

**Chapter Seven: In Which Padma and Parvati find a Loophole**

When Lavender walked through the double doors of the Great Hall the next morning, she realized that denial would not help her out of her situation. This wasn't a dream she could just wake up from, a snide remark she could brush off, or a fear she could bury using weaponized optimism. Seeing the faces of hundreds of students trained on her, whispering and gossiping forced her to confront the gravity of the situation, and she didn't like it one bit.

 _Fuck them,_ she thought bitterly at the unfairness of it all. She stabbed her eggs with her fork, causing it to scrape across the golden plate with a shrill squeak. _Fuck this, fuck them, and fuck Moody. Fuck them all with a goddamn fucking cactus._ She glanced at the head table and saw Dumbledore studying her. Moody was conspicuously absent.

"Where is Moody, do you think?" said Lavender jabbing her food as if it would magically absorb all her irritation. She smelled bacon a few plates down, and almost grabbed some, but then remembered her resolution to abstain from meat. She growled, and stabbed her eggs some more, then grabbed a few slices of toast.

"I heard from Pansy that he was ill... Lavender?" said Parvati hesitantly, "Are you alright?"

The fact that Parvati was now talking to Pansy regularly again, plus the rhetorical question flared more annoyance in Lavender, which was what caused her to snap, "Of course I'm not alright. Someone put my name in a tournament that I had zero intention of entering, even if I was old enough to compete."

"Lav-"

Lavender put her fork down, and rested her head in her hands, "Oh, Parvati, what am I going to do? I can't ask teachers for help, because, and who the fuck knows why, that's against the rules. I have no idea how to duel, and if the vision I had yesterday is anything to go by, I'll likely have to face a dragon." said Lavender, whispering the last part while looking back and forth for eavesdroppers.

"I might be able to help,"

Lavender whirled around and found Seamus Finnegan standing behind her. His hand was outstretched for Lavender, and held in his palm was the Adder stone he had found on Friday. On closer inspection, Lavender saw that it was slightly different, however. He had attached a piece of leather to the stone with a fancy looking knot, and there were runes carved in a circle around the hole of the stone.

"It's a Carrick's Bend knot," said Seamus when he saw Lavender's interest, "Me Mam taught it to me."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a walking stereotype?" said Parvati as she took a bite of melon.

"Oh, Dean never lets me forget it," said Seamus, sitting down and grinning, "Anyways, Lavender, I wanted to give this to you for you to wear in the First Task."

"But I'm not supposed to take anything that isn't my wand," said Lavender, eyeing the necklace. "They said very specifically, that I'm to be armed with only my wand."

"Ah, but this isn't a weapon," said Seamus, "It's technically counted as armor or clothes. You are allowed clothes, aren't you? Or are you expected to complete the First Task naked as the day you were born?"

"Oh, Seamus…" said Lavender, reaching out for the charm, "How can I thank you?"

"Maybe a date during the Hogsmeade visit?" said Seamus, leaning on his elbow with a grin that fluttered at the corners, hiding a touch of insecurity. Lavender paused in her reach for the charm.

"Oh," said Lavender softly, "Well, I already told Ron that I'd go with him. I'm sorry, Seamus. Maybe I could do something else?"

"Nah, it's fine!" said Seamus with a bit too much cheer, his grin disappearing as he straightened, "You take the charm anyways. No strings."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Seamus coughed awkwardly, "Listen, if you still want to pay me back, you can… Oh! Do you know how to make potions that would help protect hair from a fire?"

"Uh…"

Parvati quirked an eyebrow, "I thought Professor McGonagall told you to stop blowing things up."

"I can't help it!" protested Seamus, "It just happens. And when it does happen, my hair always smells like I've been sticking my head up a chimney."

Unable to help herself, Lavender started giggling at the image, feeling the tension from earlier quickly dissipate. She took the charm and shook Seamus's hand, "Sure thing. I'll look for a potion to fix your hair problem."

"Oooh, I think I saw one mentioned in _Witch Weekly,_ when they were doing that section on Papillote Curls," said Parvati, digging through her bag, "I might have it in here."

"Don't rush," said Seamus, "Isn't the First Task in three weeks? You should focus on that."

"Thanks, Seamus," said Lavender, putting on the Adder stone necklace, and tucking it under her robes. It was surprisingly warm against her skin, and it felt heavier than she imagined it would. "This honestly makes me feel a lot better."

"All in a day's work," said Seamus happily. He stood up again, "I'm going to go sit by Dean. I'll see you later."

He left, and when he sat down next to Dean several students down the table, Lavender could see him pick mournfully at his breakfast, but start grinning once again as Dean started to speak animatedly about a muggle football game. Parvati noticed this as well, but shook it off and started digging through her bag once again.

"Lavender," said Parvati, "Do you know what this means?"

"What does it mean?" said Lavender, stabbing at her eggs again.

"I might know something you could do for the First Task!"

"Like what?"

"We could make you some armor!"

"What kind of armor?"

Parvati pulled a book filled with diagrams of what looked to be deconstructed clothing and flipped through it. "A gambeson, probably. We could make it nice and long, but lightweight-"

"Parvati, I have no idea what a gambeson is," said Lavender, snapping viciously. Slight annoyance flashed over Parvati's eyes, causing Lavender to sigh deeply.

_Breathe in… Breathe out…_

"Sorry, Parvati." said Lavender, forcing herself to relax, "Please, can you tell me what a gambeson is?"

"Armor made from layered fabric," said Parvati, patient and forgiving as ever, with excitement bubbling out of her like it always did when she got to babble about clothes, "I'll talk with Padma and Hermione. They'll know better than me where to search the rulebook for loopholes that'll help us. But Seamus is right; They said you could only be _armed_ with your wand, implying that you can bring in whatever you want for defensive measures. I'll bet you anything that when the TriWizard tournament was in its prime, contestants used enchanted shields and chainmail."

"Nice!" said Lavender, feeling hopeful for the first time since she had heard her name called for the goblet last night. "You do that, and I'll search the library for spells to help me fight a dragon."

"You got this, Lavender," said Parvati, thumbing through the pages of her book. "Just you see! You'll take this tournament by it's short and curlies. Whoever put your name in the Goblet won't know what hit them!"

Although Lavender wasn't sure how much of Parvati's confidence she shared, she allowed herself to bellow out a loud laugh, and share in Parvati's obvious excitement at their new project. _What sort of loopholes would Padma and Hermione be able to find,_ Lavender wondered to herself. Then, a chilling thought crossed her mind, and Lavender turned around to see if Hermione had come to breakfast.

Would Hermione even be willing to help her?

While she and Hermione had never been the closest, Lavender had never experienced a fight with Hermione as bad as the one they had been having. It begged the question of whether or not the two could move on from the disagreement and work together, and if Hermione would be willing.

"I'll talk to Hermione," said Parvati, sensing Lavender's worries.

Lavender gave her a small smile and tried to think of what she could say to Hermione. She was met with nothing. Her mind felt as blank as a clean sheet of parchment. Who, if anyone, could Lavender talk to that would understand?

"I need to send a letter," said Lavender, stuffing a piece of toast in her mouth. After swallowing, she continued, "Mum… Mum and Dad need to know what happened, and if they find out from the school before me, there'll be hell to pay. So I'll be in the owlery, if you need me. And if I'm not there, look in the library- I'll likely find some good spells for fighting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts section."

Parvati nodded, then returned to her book, stopping on a page depicting a knight wearing a bright red tunic that looked to be quilted, with sleeves that were tied at the shoulders. He was swinging a sword at fearsome-looking dragon that still looked far friendlier than the one Lavender had seen in her vision.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I'm not sure how to start this. By now, you will probably have received a letter from the school explaining._

_Somehow I've been entered in the TriWizard Tournament. I swear, I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire._

Lavender paused, wondering what to put next. She decided to opt for fake confidence.

_But I've started planning for the First Task and I'm confident that I'll be successful! I've been chosen by the Goblet of Fire for Hogwarts fourth Champion, so that must count for something._

_Please don't worry about me, I'll be fine. My friends have my back, so I know I can do anything._

_Speaking of friends, I'm afraid I have gotten into a spat with Hermione. Ron and I are going on a date to Hogsmeade, and… Well, Hermione is jealous, and when we started arguing, I called her a name I shouldn't have. I called her a Know-It-All._

_Oh Mum, what do I do? I feel so terrible. How do I fix this?_

_Love,_

_Lavender_

For a second, Lavender debated whether or not to tell her Mum and Dad about the weird dreams and visions, but decided that her parents had enough to worry about without fearing that their daughter had gone mad. _Besides,_ she thought, _even Dumbledore said not to dwell on them._

She stood up from where she had been kneeling in the Owlery to write the letter and looked around for a school owl to use. Lavender wished she had an owl, really any sort of pet, but her parents had been insistent on waiting until she was out of school to get one. They didn't believe she was responsible enough quite yet.

 _Maybe they're right… What have I actually done with my time? I'm great at Divination, and some Transfiguration and Charms, but I've sorely neglected more practical disciplines._ Lavender growled, scaring off a young barn owl, who hooted scornfully at Lavender from its perch.

"I'm sorry," said Lavender, grabbing a treat from a dish the House Elves kept full in the front of the Owlery, "Here- have a goodie."

The owl just continued to stare resolutely, then it ruffled its feathers as if it were offended at the notion of a 'goodie'.

"Or not…" said Lavender, turning to a proud looking tawny owl that stuck out its foot, blinking at the barn owl as if to say 'See, this is how you do it!', then grabbed the treat eagerly from Lavender before flying away with a flap of its wings.

With a heavy sigh, Lavender turned around, resigning herself to spend her Sunday morning leafing through books upon books in the library. Ordinarily, she would spend her weekends reading magazines with Parvati, or sitting by the Black Lake, or trying out a new spell to properly set her curls.

But that would all have to wait.

Upon entering the library, Lavender made a beeline for the Defense Against the Dark Arts section. _There has got to be something here to help me fight a dragon… Wait, what am I thinking? I should be looking in the section for Magical Creatures._ Correcting her mistake, Lavender changed her path just in time to see Viktor Krum leaving the section carrying a stack of books on…

Dragons. The books were about dragons.

"Hello," said Krum with a heavy accent, pausing for a moment before quickly leaving Lavender on her own. He took only the time it took to check out his books behind Hermione, before following her out the library.

"Shit," said Lavender, rushing to the shelf that Krum had just been at to try and find any remaining books on dragons. There were none. Groaning to herself, Lavender tried not to panic. _Okay, tiny hiccup. The other Champions have somehow figured out that we're to be facing dragons, and have been far more proactive than I in their research._

 _This is fine… I can still do this… I just need to try a different approach. Now, where else can I learn about dragons or ways to fight them? They are magical creatures… Maybe there might be charms that'll work..._ Lavender decided to head back towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts section, pacing up and down the aisles, looking for any books that might aid her quest. _101 Defensive Spells for Young Witches, So You Want to be a Duelist?,_ and her favorite thus far _The Basic Grimoire #1._

Once she had sufficiently burdened her arms, Lavender found a table to begin leafing through them. _Ugh, Hermione is so much better than me at reading things. What would she do…_

 _She would make a list!_ Lavender sat down and collected a clean sheet of parchment to write a list of things she needed to do.

**Priority #1- Research Dragons and find a way to fight one**

**Priority #2- Find out why Moody wants to kill me**

**Priority #3- Find a way to apologize to Hermione**

"Need some help?" said Harry, sneaking up behind her.

To her credit, Lavender did not scream, nor did she fling her books in the air. She managed to stifle her surprise to a simple gasp and a small jump.

"Sorry," said Harry, taking a couple of her books and setting them on the table that Lavender had chosen. "Er- Do you want any help with research? Ron said you were concerned about Professor Moody."

It was like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders with those seven simple words. "Yes," said Lavender, setting her list aside. "But right now, it's mostly about dragons. I had a dream. Well, I passed out and had a dream. But in it, I was fighting a dragon." Part of her was tempted to continue with her dream about Moody, but she stopped. _That's not a priority right now. I can't get distracted. Focus on_ ** _Priority #1_** _. Dragons._

"That is a weird dream," said Harry, and Lavender felt herself relax for the first time in what felt like weeks.

"I know!" said Lavender, "So you don't think I'm crazy?"

"Well," said Harry, shifting and looking a bit uncomfortable, "I get weird dreams too, and I don't think I'm crazy."

"Weird, like what?"

Harry shrugged, looking like he would rather be anywhere but right there with Lavender. "Stuff...with Voldemort."

Lavender flinched at the mention of You-Know-Who's name, "Oh," She stayed quiet, and when Harry didn't answer she got the impression that he didn't want to talk about it. "So, it turns out that people have checked out all of the books on dragons. Do you know anyone who knows anything about dragons?"

At this, Harry perked up. "Hagrid might be able to help. He once tried to raise a Norwegian Ridgeback in his hut."

"That seems irresponsible," said Lavender, though she wasn't that shocked. Hagrid loved all manner of magical creatures; whether or not they were friendly or violent didn't seem to matter to him.

"Yeah… Me, Ron, and Hermione managed to convince him to send it to Romania with Ron's brother, Charlie. That's how Hermione, Neville, and I lost all those points in our First Year." said Harry, laughing to himself. He got a far off look in his eyes as he reminisced on the memory.

"Then we should go see him!" said Lavender excitedly, "Maybe he can give me some advice!" She started to stand up, then a thought occurred to her. "Wait… No, I'm not allowed to seek help from a teacher."

She sat down, groaning loudly enough that Madame Pince sent her a loud shushing noise. "What am I going to do?"

"I could always go to Hagrid with a list of questions, and bring them back to you," said Harry, taking a quill and a sheet of parchment. "What would you want me to ask?"

"Really?" said Lavender, unable to believe her ears, "Why would you do that for me? We barely know each other,"

Harry shrugged, "I- When I saw the Goblet of Fire light up, I was almost certain that my name would be called. I know what it's like to feel stuck, so…"

"Thank you…" said Lavender, feeling far brighter than she had upon waking.

"No problem," said Harry, looking up as a group of Hufflepuffs walked past them. Lavender saw several of the students send her angry glares. "Besides, we have tea now and then. And he loves talking about dangerous creatures- it's his favorite pastime."

"How do I kill a dragon?" said Lavender, her eyes lighting up as she did her best to ignore the continued glares. "What sort of weaknesses do dragons have? How fast are they? How far does their fire breath reach?" The questions burst out of her, with Harry having to ask her to repeat herself several times as she was talking very quickly. Soon, the two of them had a long list of questions Harry promised to ask Hagrid.

"I hope I'm not making you feel put upon," said Lavender as Harry was still hunched in his chair and seeming to be quite uncomfortable. He kept glancing behind his back as if he expected someone to swoop in on him. He blinked at the statement and looked confused.

"Why would you think that?" asked Harry, fiddling with his quill.

"You look uncomfortable,"

"Oh," said Harry, "I didn't realize… It's not you. I just…" He looked around again. "Well, it's just that Hermione hangs out in the library a lot. More so now that she's researching things for spew."

 _Why would Harry be worried about running into Hermione? Wait…_ It hit her like a slap in the face. Harry wasn't worried about Hermione seeing him. He was worried about Hermione seeing him with her. At that moment, it was like the seething pit of anger, anxiety, and bitterness that had been collecting for the past two months started frothing and boiling, rolling around in her stomach with the ferocity of a howling wolverine.

"Fine, I'll just leave then." spat Lavender, collecting her papers and bookbag. It was bad enough that she was now a pariah with the Hufflepuffs and likely the Ravenclaws. Someone from her own house to not wanting to be seen with her stung in a way that felt venomous and almost lethal. "You won't have to worry about being seen with me."

"Lavender, wait," said Harry, reaching out for her. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You know, I'm not a homewrecker," said Lavender, rounding on Harry and making him flinch back into his seat. "I didn't cheat on anyone. I didn't break anyone up. But thanks anyway for treating me like one." She heard Harry stand up and start towards her, so she spun around and continued, "Don't worry about talking to Hagrid. I'll talk to him myself- most people find me quite charming." _Screw the rules._ Lavender growled to herself. She was in this tournament against her will, and at a severe disadvantage. _Screw everything. Fuck this shit. Someone obviously tipped the other contestants off- I doubt they also were given prophetic visions. Why should I compete fairly, if no one else is?_

It was a lie. Her conversational skills were ordinary, at best. But Harry didn't need to know that.

She picked up speed, fully intending on checking out her books and fleeing to Trelawney's office for a cup of tea and advice. But if she were honest with herself, she knew that her Divination teacher would be able to offer no useful insight on how to deal with Hermione, nor any insight on how to kill a dragon. The only thing she'd be useful with would be on what to do about Smintheus, and at the moment Smintheus didn't even rank on her list of priorities.

"Dammit," said Lavender, spinning around to go back to Harry, who was still walking so that Madame Pince would not protest. She hated how staying made her feel like she was rolling over and giving up, but she hated the feeling that running away would give her more. Leaving felt cowardly and weak. She still had work to do. There was no telling if any of the books she'd chosen would be useful.

"Lavender, I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you," said Harry, catching up to Lavender, and pulling her to a table. "I was just trying to avoid an argument, if at all possible. I'm sorry. Look, I can still come with you to Hagrid's. He loves the company, and believe it or not, he sent me a note this morning saying I should bring you to have tea with him."

Harry shuffled awkwardly, and it occurred to Lavender that this was the longest conversation he had ever had with her or anyone that she knew of for that matter, except Ron and Hermione. He stuck to both of their sides like glue, hardly ever talking to anyone outside of that group. It was almost as if he didn't know how to talk to anyone else, as if he'd been raised isolated.

Considering the small, painfully shy by he had been as a First Year, it wouldn't surprise her if he had been raised quite isolated.

"He probably would," said Lavender, setting her books down at the new table. "And it's fine. I get it. And don't worry about Hermione- I saw her leave earlier with Krum." She tapped her fingers against the wooden surface.

At this, Harry looked relieved, "Okay, good. Hmm… Hey, these are defense books."

Lavender pushed one of the books towards him. "Of course they are. I'm supposed to fight a dragon."

"But you're not good at Defense Against the Dark Arts." said Harry, "I thought you'd be searching for a Charm or a way to Transfigure something you could use in the First Task."

"I need to fight something, not Charm something," Lavender slouched, pulling _The Basic Grimoire #1_ open.

By then, lunch had started, signaled by the smell of leek soup that wafted through the entrance hall. Lavender's stomach growled and she hurried into the Great Hall and was greeted by several hundred eyes staring straight at her. Most of them were glowers, especially from the Hufflepuff table. _Wonderful,_ thought Lavender, _the entire school now hates me._ She headed towards the Gryffindor table, which thankfully seemed far less hostile and was waved down by Ron, who was sitting next to the chessboard he had been playing with last night.

"Hey," said Ron cheerfully, "It occurred to me that we never got to play last night."

As she was sitting down next to Ron, Lavender spotted Hermione from the corner of her eye. Harry, who had stayed in the library with her until the lunch bell rang shuffled over to Hermione, who made space for him, and shot Ron a glance full of longing and regret.

It suddenly occurred to her that what she had said in the library was inherently false. Though it wasn't intentional, nor was it done out of a malicious want to steal Ron away, her pursuit of Ron had broken up their friend group. Instead of sitting with Harry and Hermione, Ron was now sitting with her.

"Ron?" said Lavender, feeling an unwanted sense of guilt creep up as she watched Ron set up the board. "Do you resent me?"

Ron stopped, then quirked his eyebrow at her. "What the bloody fuck does that mean?"

"Well, you're not sitting with Harry and Hermione, and I don't want you to break things off with your friends just because…" Lavender stopped as Ron had reached over and picked up her plate to start heaping chips and sandwiches onto it.

"Eat,"

"What?"

"Hermione does the same thing when she's hungry. She overthinks things and gets all worked up," said Ron, setting the plate back down. "Me, Harry, and Hermione'll be fine." said Ron, "In fact, just this morning I had was coming down to breakfast and she yelled at me and made me go back to my dorm and wash my face because I had dirt on my nose."

"I don't…"

"Don't worry," Ron paused, tapping his fingers against the table, then continued, "Look, Hermione and I bicker all the time. It's how we show each other we care." Ron glanced at Hermione who was now picking at a bowl of soup, "I don't understand what's going on, but whatever is getting under her skin, it's not your fault. Trust me."

"I trust you," said Lavender, hoping Ron was right.

There was a pause then the double doors opened and Lavender saw Krum walking through the double doors. Ron watched him enter and his mouth fell slightly open.

"Hey," said Ron, "So, since you're a Champion and all…"

"What do you want?"

"You should, if the opportunity comes up naturally of course…" said Ron, stumbling through his words. "Maybe see if he'd be willing to autograph something?"

"What, is he a celebrity?"

"What?!" Ron coughed, choking on a chip, "He's only one of the greatest Quidditch players of our age!"

"I don't care for Quidditch." said Lavender, taking a bite of one of the sandwiches Ron had piled on her plate that didn't have meat.

"You don't care for Quidditch?" said Ron, his eyes bugging out of his skull, "Oh, well, now we really do have to break up."

It wasn't all that funny, but she was unable to help herself. The statement was said in such a ridiculous tone, and Ron had thrown his arms out in a large gigantic fashion- Lavender snorted, nearly shooting out bits of sandwich onto her plate. More hysterics then bubbled up as Ron joined in, and she hit the table with her fists to keep from choking on peanut butter. Ron reached over and patted her back.

"Arsehole," said Lavender, coughing some more between her snorting laughter.

"Say what you will, at least I know who Viktor Krum is." Ron retorted, then leaned over with a dopey grin, wiping a smear of peanut butter from her cheek.

"Oh, god no," said Lavender, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. "No, this is a nightmare. You've seen me spit my food. We've only kissed once."

"You bet I did," said Ron, kissing Lavender's hand as she furiously wiped her face, "I gotta say. You could give Ginny a run for her money in spit takes."

Lavender had no response for this except for the urge to kiss him back. It didn't matter to her that her mouth tasted like peanut butter, or that everyone could see them. She looped her arm around his neck, and pulled him down towards her, brushing their lips together. It felt better than it had last night. This time it was less wet, and Ron felt more confident as he leaned into the kiss, pulling Lavender closer.

"Won-won," said Lavender, resting her head against his shoulder. His shoulders then shook as if he was either trying not to laugh or trying not to cry, and Ron let out a very controlled breath as coughed.

"So, Lavender… We need to-"

Before Ron could finish his sentence Parvati and Padma sat down across from them. Padma slammed an ancient and heavy-looking book onto the table, rattling goblets, and plates, as well as heavy bowls filled with soup.

"This," said Padma, "Is the complete rulebook for the TriWizard tournament. It details uniform regulations, as well as rules dictating what the schools and judges may, and may not make you fight, as well as some of the weirdest rules- like apparently you're not allowed to have sex with a naiad whilst competing in any of the tasks."

"Padma!" said Parvati, "Stay on topic."

"Sorry, it just begs the question of _why_ , and I'm _fascinated_ ," said Padma, who then opened to a page she had marked with a sheet of glittery blue paper. "Anyways... during the sixteenth century enchanted pistols- or hand cannons -were gaining popularity in the wizarding world-mainly due to their rising popularity in the muggle world."

"This was before the Statue of Secrecy," added Parvati as she saw Ron's confused look. "Wizards still kept themselves separated from the muggle world as a matter of pride and safety, but for the same reasons, many saw fit to merge with the muggle world as much as possible. That included utilizing firearms if they were rich enough to afford them."

"I heard," said Padma blithely, "That the Malfoys have a secret basement with tons of really old enchanted muggle weapons, all from the middle ages when they were still part of muggle nobility."

"Getting back to the topic at hand," said Parvati, taking the book from Padma, who then shot her sister an offended scoff, "This section right here details uniform regulations from 1567 that allows spider silk gambesons to be added into circulation due to the rising popularity of said enchanted pistols. They're a bitch to make as spiders are cannibalistic, so it's hard to get them to cooperate, but they're bulletproof. They became popular due to the ease in which contestants could murder other contestants with guns that an actual allowance had to be added in. "

"Now, I know what you're thinking," Padma interjected, stealing the book back from Parvati, "'Padma, Parvati, shouldn't that nearly five-hundred-year-old edict have been pulled out of circulation after the Statue of Secrecy forced the ministry to ban enchanted pistols? Well, it definitely should have been. I mean look at Form A: Section 32 where it details that muggle thralls can be used as bait. Oof. This form is embarrassingly out of date."

"But somebody made a mistake. This little form was never officially decertified," said Parvati raising her hand to Padma.

"Which means it's still valid," said Padma, high fiving Parvati.

"That's…" Lavender could hardly believe it. "That's incredible! But I don't understand. Would we only be able to use spider silk? I can't spin it, and I wouldn't be able to afford it."

Pardma and Parvati exchanged winces.

"Now for the bad news," said Parvati, "It specifically applies to spider silk. If you don't use it, you'd have to wear your school uniform. And even with the gambeson, we'd have to make it in Gryffindor colors. Also Padma and I can't spin it. Well, we can, but we can't get the spiders to cooperate, so it would take _forever_. But... we know someone who can."

"Who?" said Lavender.

"Pansy Parkinson," said Parvati with a wince. "It's her family's specialty. They've got a weird knack with spiders, and made their fortune from their ability to convince them to weave their webbing into clothing."

"No," said Lavender firmly.

"Look," said Padma, "Parvati said that you were worried about dragons, and spider silk armor would be the best protection against them, especially if it's enchanted. And I don't know anyone better at clothing enchantments than Pansy Parkinson."

Parvati nodded, frowning, "I already asked her if she'd be willing, and she said yes. And best of all, she said she'd do it for free."

"She wants something. She hates me, Parvati. Me and Hermione both."

"I don't like it either, but Lavender it'll be incredible protection against whatever you might face in the First Task. Besides..." Parvati stopped, "I think she might be hoping that if she helps us, it could help mend our friendship."

Lavender looked to Ron who had been unusually quiet, hoping he might provide some wisdom or insight she could use. Instead, he shrugged, shaking his head. "I would say don't trust her, but you seem to have that handled. Just… Do what you need to do." said Ron, scowling as if the words tasted bad in his mouth. He muttered a few choice words under his breath, then growled, "But see if Professor McGonagall can offer you any advice. Maybe our teachers can't help you, but if you're able to use a five hundred-year-old loophole about fucking uniform regulations, I'm sure there is a way she can help you as well."

"Won-" Before Lavender could finish, Ron swooped down and kissed her, smothering the nickname.

"I just want you to be safe," said Ron, "So keep at arm's length away from that snake at all times."

Across from her, Parvati looked nervous and hopeful at the same time. Lavender glanced at Hermione several seats down who was engaged in a serious-looking conversation with Harry, while skimming a History of Magic textbook, still picking at her soup. Hermione would not approve of working with Pansy, and Lavender couldn't fathom why Parvati would seem so hopeful at the thought of working with her.

But the idea of armor… Lavender considered her options. Partnering with Pansy to make the gambeson would mean potentially ruining her friendship with Hermione beyond repair. But going into the dragon pit without armor could mean her death or worse, mutilation.

"If we're going to do this, we have to go now, Lavender," said Parvati, Pansy needs to get your measurements so that she knows exactly how much silk she's going to need, and how many spiders she'll need to… collect…"

Ron shuddered next to her, "Sorry," he mumbled, "Don't like spiders."

Lavender rubbed her temples, then glanced back at Hermione who was now heading directly for them in a beeline. She sent Lavender an apprehensive smile before standing off to her right side, fiddling with her hands nervously. "Hey," said Hermione, "Got a minute?"

"Uh," said Lavender, wondering to herself why these things had to collide at the same time, feeling slightly exhausted with it all.

Focusing on her crumbling relationship with Hermione as well as her plan for the First Task, while a teacher was trying to kill her, and finding out who Smintheus was and what he wanted was quickly becoming overwhelming.

She had to choose. **Priority #1**. Dragons. Or **Priority #3**. Hermione.

As it turned out, the choice was easy.

"I'm sorry… I have to- I actually have to go…. Stuff for the First Task."

"Right-of course,"

It felt like she was trading living for surviving, but Lavender decided to stand up, and follow Parvati and Padma out of the Great Hall, leaving behind Hermione and Ron. Her relationship with Hermione could wait. This was a fight she wouldn't, she couldn't, run away from.


	8. AKA Stargazer

_"Muuum…" whined a five year-old Draco as Narcissa straightened his collar, tightening it around his neck until Draco felt as if the starch stiffened collar would choke him. "Why do I have to dress up? It's just supper."_

_"Draco," said Narcissa in a tone that implied she was not to be argued with, "We are the wizarding elite. Our blood is the purest, and the most perfect, which means we must always dress as such."_

_A few moments later, Narcissa was finished with the collar, and she left Draco alone to make his way to the dining room as she finished dressing. Immediately, Draco sprung out of the room and towards the dining hall. He was almost through the archway when he heard arguing from the front of the Manor._

_""What do you mean 'She's dead?'"_

_It was his father._

_Lucius's voice was a low, hissing snarl. It was a tone Draco had only heard from him when something had gone horribly, disastrously wrong._

_Unable to resist the temptation to listen in, Draco stopped and inched closer until he saw his father's long white-blond hair that was pulled back into a low ponytail, arguing with another man whom he recognized as Theo's father, Mr. Nott._

_"She's my wife," growled Mr. Nott threateningly, pointing a finger at Lucius, "I didn't exactly plan it that way. Especially not in front of Theodore! I was trying to get her to tell me where the memory was. The one you wanted if I recall!"_

_Draco felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as his eyes widened. What memory?_

_Lucius straightened, pulling himself taller and rising above Mr. Nott. If looks could kill, Mr. Nott would have turned into a smoldering pile of dust. "That memory was your responsibility, Tobias. And if the girl you brought me was any evidence, I hardly think that Theodore was the only witness."_

_"She didn't see anything," said Mr. Nott, moving an arm's length away, "She was in the back room. Only ran out when she heard Theodore screaming."_

_"Why was she there in the first place?"_

_"I was meeting with her father- you know Alcott. I flooed him saying, 'Alcott, come over for supper! I have some business to discuss with you about perhaps using spider silk in my home renovations. Bring your daughter- we'll make a playdate of it.' I thought his sister, Marigold might have stolen the memory at our last meeting. That Hufflepuff bitch never did have the stomach for-"_

_All of a sudden, Lucius motioned for Mr. Nott to stop talking and strode in large steps to where Draco was hiding. Thinking fast, Draco burst out of hiding with a laugh and jumped into his father's arms._

_"Daddy!" he said excitedly, as Lucius groaned and gave him a frown. "You're home!"_

_"Draco…," said Lucius, "You weren't eavesdropping, were you?"_

_"No," lied Draco._

_From the severe look he was given, Lucius didn't believe Draco for a second. But he smiled, then put him back on the floor, smoothing Draco's hair back like his own. "Very well," said Lucius, "Tell your mother I will be back momentarily, and that we have a dinner guest tonight. She's in the sitting room. Have Dobby fetch her some clean clothes and fix her a place at the table. I have a few errands to run with Mr. Nott."_

_"Yes, Daddy," said Draco, nodding his head up and down very fast._

_"Oh, and Draco," continued Lucius, "If you did hear anything, remember- it's our little secret. Can you keep it for me?"_

_Draco nodded, a little unsure, but upon more prompting from Lucius, he chimed, "Yes, Daddy," Then, "But I didn't hear anything."_

_"Father," said Lucius severely, "You need to say 'Yes, Father,'."_

_"Yes, Father,"_

_"Good boy," said Lucius, his eyes, "I love you, Draco."_

_"I love you too!"_

_All was well once again. Lucius strode away with Mr. Nott, exiting out the door. Moments later, Draco heard the tell-tale crack of Apparition as they vanished into thin air. With haste, Draco scurried to the sitting room where he saw the back of a girl with chin-length dark hair, curled into a ball on an ottoman and sniffling._

_It was Pansy Parkinson._

**Chapter Eight: In Which Draco Reads a Space Book**

When Draco left the Hospital Wing following being turned into a ferret and thrown down the corridor, he subsequently left Daphne and Pansy and decided to roam on his own and sulk. He wasn't a bully. He couldn't be. What he had said had been in a fit of anger and pain. It was inadmissible.

Yet… Deep down, there was a part of him that couldn't deny the truth. It angered him, burned him from the inside out.

He was a bully. Just like his father.

So he walked, pacing through the castle like an angry cat. He looked for something or someone to yell at or torment so that he didn't have to think about how he was slowly but surely turning into his father. And how could he not turn into Lucius Malfoy? He was already practically his twin; thin and blonde, with a pointed chin, and gray eyes.

But when you have a reputation as a bully, most people actively avoided you. This resulted in Draco being unable to find a suitable victim. So after sending a letter to his father detailing the events with Moody he wandered to the highest place in the school where he could gaze down at the ground below and contemplate the meaning of life- the Astronomy Tower.

Draco had always liked high places. You could see everything at once, and no one could sneak up on you. Well, usually at least.

"Are you sulking, or thinking?"

It was Professor Sinistra, the astronomy teacher. She stood by a set of telescopes, adjusting nobs and screws, while Draco sat by a large window that reached down to the floor. In his distress, he hadn't noticed her.

"What does it matter?" said Draco, practically spitting venom.

"I suppose it doesn't," said Sinistra.

It was tempting to yell at Sinistra, but Draco held his tongue. She was a Professor and therefore not someone it would be wise to anger. That, and she was also a Slytherin, which made her a part of his own house.

"Anything I can do to help?" said Sinistra after a few moments passed of complete silence.

"No."

_I'm supposed to want to be like my father. And why shouldn't I? He's successful, rich, and perfect._

And what about that one night...

_And that one night doesn't count. That wasn't Father. Father didn't hurt anyone. He just cleaned up a friend's mess._

He's a bully and no one likes him. What was it that Potter called him? 'Vile and cruel?'

_He's my father._

But Draco knew that regardless of whether or not Lucius Malfoy was his father, he did not want to become Lucius Malfoy.

"Professor…" said Draco, breaking the silence that had fallen over the tower. Sinistra who was currently fiddling with one of the telescopes turned her head to listen, "Is it… What do you do if someone you love isn't a good person?"

There was a moment where Sinistra said nothing and just continued to fiddle with the telescope. Then she gave a short breathy sigh and said, "That's a tricky one. Could you elaborate?"

"How do you stop from becoming like them?"

"Is this about your father?" said Sinistra, her eyes heavy and shadowed.

It was a few moments before Draco slowly nodded.

Sinistra approached him and sat down on the floor so that she was at his level. "Well, that's hard to answer."

"Why?"

"Our parents can't help but shape us. From the moment we're born they influence our every decision, everything from our views on politics to something as simple as what foods we enjoy," said Sinistra.

Draco huffed, "Well I know that, but how do you stop from becoming just like them? And how do you know what's right and wrong if your parent doesn't exactly set the best example?" He picked up a pebble and threw it out the window.

"Well, first off, don't do that. Who knows who's standing outside, and just got a pebble thrown on them. And I suppose the next thing you need to do is find someone who is a good example." said Sinistra, then she took on a contemplative look and made a coy smile, "Hmm… Mr. Malfoy, maybe you're just what I need… Do you know Daphne Greengrass?"

"Yes," said Draco with a curt tone. Daphne Greengrass was a Slytherin in his year. Pansy Parkinson used to be close to her, but when Daphne's sister, Astoria, began attending Hogwarts, she had slowly distanced herself from Pansy's posse. As far as he knew, Daphne only hung out with them during Hogsmeade outings.

"Well, I've been trying to get her to be my assistant, but she's always worried about Astoria being on her own- the poor girl is so sickly. Perhaps she might be more willing if she knew someone was watching her?" said Sinistra with a slight oily tone that Draco always heard in his father's voice whenever Lucius was trying to win over a colleague

"What's in it for me?" said Draco, crossing his arms with a small pout. There was a pause where Sinistra was thinking of the right response. "And why can't a house-elf watch her, or something?"

"Well, I think either Daphne is too proud to let her sister be kept company by a house-elf, or it's more precautionary. Astoria is pretty much a normal little girl, except she occasionally has to take potions and spend time in the Hospital Wing." said Sinistra, finally, "As for what's in it for you, well isn't that something your father would say?"

Damn. The bitch was right. Lucius Malfoy wouldn't lift a finger to help a dying man in front of him unless it benefited him.

"Now I'm not saying that you have to help Daphne, but maybe it would be a step in the right direction?" said Sinistra, standing up and walking back to her telescopes. "And you might make a new friend, too."

"And what if Daphne says no?" said Draco crossly, "What then?"

"Well, still try to be friends with them!" said Sinistra, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "They're usually in the library."

Draco groaned, but despite his reluctance, he stood up and dragged himself down to the library.

Once there, he found the two sisters hidden in a corner by the Healing and Transfiguration sections, perched on some beanbag cushions. Daphne sat with a copy of Pluto: Planet or Moon, sitting as straight and proper as one could on a beanbag cushion, her straight blonde hair sweeping over her face like a veil. The girl he assumed was Astoria slouched, with her own book perched on her stomach, dishwater colored hair pulled back in a braid. Upon seeing him, Daphne gave him a neutral but cautious look, straightening even more if such a thing was possible.

"Malfoy," she said simply, nodding his way.

"Greengrass," said Draco, giving her a nod back. "Sinistra sent me. Apparently she's been trying to get you to be her assistant?"

A muscle in Daphne's jaw twitched as if Draco had just opened a large and very messy can of worms.

"She has," said Daphne, "But I've told her many times that I'm not interested."

"Yes you are," said Astoria, piping up with a frail and quiet voice, "Your favorite class is Astronomy. You talk about it all the time."

"But I'm not interested, Astoria."

"I don't need a babysitter, Daphne!"

"Uh…" Draco stood awkwardly, wondering how he should position himself until Daphne shot him a short but withering scowl.

"So what did Sinistra have to say?"

Draco coughed, then sat down on one of the beanbags as gracefully as he could but missed, landing on the floor in a heap and earning a giggle from Astoria. "She said," said Draco, repositioning himself on the beanbag. "That perhaps I could entertain your sister so that your time would be freed up."

The wide grin that had appeared on Astoria's face melted away, and she dug herself deeper in the beanbag as she sulked, "I don't need a babysitter!" she muttered darkly.

"Well, not to babysit," said Draco quickly, then clapped his mouth shut when Daphne threw him a glare.

"Of course not, Astoria…" said Daphne, "But-"

"Just go assist Sinistra, Daphne," said Astoria in such a way that Draco had the feeling they'd had the same argument many times before. "You want to, I know it! I'll be fine on my own."

"Mum said not to leave you on your own. What if you faint, and fall and hit your head?"

"I'll be fine,"

"And I can be there," said Draco, "Sinistra thinks it'll-" He was about to say 'good for me,' but Astoria chose at that time to let out a disgusted huff, stand up, annoyance seeping out of her very essence, and walk towards the Transfiguration section of the library. Daphne seemed tempted to follow, but stayed when she saw that her younger sister was staying within earshot.

Across from him, Daphne sighed, rolling her eyes. "Sorry," she said. "She hates being babied, or feeling like she's being babied."

"Er…"

"So what do you get out of this?" said Daphne, not wasting time.

"What makes you think-"

"You're Draco Malfoy. Altruism doesn't come naturally to Malfoys."

Draco growled, then said, "Well, I'm trying to be altruistic, so that's what I'm getting."

"Why?" said Daphne, quirking her eyebrows, "Why should I trust you with my sister? Does this have anything to do with 'Draco Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret?'"

Malfoy clenched his teeth, grinding them together to keep from yelling. His humiliation already had a name? "What's it to you?"

"You're volunteering to watch over my sister for the time that I'm helping Professor Sinistra. How do I know that you aren't going to try and take advantage of her?" Daphne whispered, low and dangerous.

"She's twelve,"

"You're fourteen, and have a good foot on her in height."

"I'm not a monster-"

"You're a bully." said Daphne, like it told the story of his entire career at Hogwarts. The worst part was that it was very nearly true. Draco ruled Slytherin House through fear and intimidation. Fear of his father, and intimidation through the muscle that Crabbe and Goyle provided. It defined him, gave him purpose. Every group of people needed someone else to keep everyone in line. Without him, there would be chaos.

 _Besides,_ Draco thought, _it's not like anyone I bully are people. They're Mudbloods, and Blood Traitors. They should be thanking me for reminding them of their place!_

"Not to fellow purebloods," said Draco. He expected it to reassure her, but Daphne simply leaned back, narrowing her eyes.

"And the fact that Astoria will never have children doesn't bother you, or lower her status in any way?"

"Why should it?"

Daphne looked surprised at this question, blinking a few times before answering, "Mum and Dad have tried to set up marriage arrangements for her quite a few times, but they have always been declined."

"I'm not looking to marry her," said Draco, feeling a bit mortified. He leaned back as he tried to disappear entirely. "Look, do you want my help or not? I'm just trying to, I don't know, not be a major dick, and Sinistra said that this would be good for me."

Daphne sighed heavily, obviously very conflicted. "Alright, we'll give it a trial week… And I need to talk to Sinistra about sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. How about you stay here while I do that?"

"Uh…"

Not giving Draco a chance to respond, Daphne stood up and walked away, presumably to meet with Sinistra. As soon as she was gone, Astoria popped out of the Transfiguration section and flounced back onto her beanbag.

"So," she said with a searching tone as she opened a book that was covered with various alchemical symbols, "What's this about marriage?"

The trial week passed with surprising success. Draco quickly became quite fond of Astoria, enjoying her presence more than he thought he would. Astoria was odd for a Slytherin in that she tended to not give any mind to social niceties, or regulations. She also had a nihilistic view of the world that appealed to him, not mincing words with how she thought something would go down.

"Why waste time with them?" said Astoria bitterly one early October afternoon while Daphne was assisting Sinistra with setting up a new telescope. They were skipping stones on the bank of the Black Lake, enjoying the brisk weather. "What'll it matter? It's not like I'll live long enough for it to be useful…"

Draco studied her for a moment. She looked quite similar to Daphne, but numerous, and quite minor, differences set her apart. The first was that her skin that was far too pale, making even her dishwater blonde hair look darker than it was in reality. Her frail build made her small robes seem almost baggy, and the dark bags that hung under her eyes were the shade of a fresh bruise.

In short, she looked like she could keel over at any moment. It was like she was a corpse with the face of her sister. It was no wonder then, that Daphne never let her out of her sight.

"Astoria…" said Draco, thinking up an idea of how he might cheer her up, "Follow me."

He grabbed her hand, pulling her along until he caught sight of Potter and Granger, sitting together around a jar of blue fire, flipping through various parchments containing their homework. He smirked, hiding himself and Astoria behind a wall and pulled several sheets of paper from his satchel, ripping a piece off with his mouth and chewing on it as he pulled a straw from his bag.

"Draco, what are you doing?" said Astoria despairingly.

"Watch," said Draco, the shot the spitball right at the back of Granger's head, enjoying the shriek she gave when she felt the wet wad of paper lodged in her hair. Astoria seemed to enjoy it as well if her infectious giggles were anything to go by.

"Oh, _Merlin_!" said Astoria, pulling Draco away, doubled over and clutching her stomach, racing away from Granger and Potter, like two bandits running from the law. "What the heck, Draco? That's disgusting!"

But she was laughing now, giving her far too pale cheeks a stain of pink. Her smile lit the dim of October, proving that there was life still inside her.

More weeks passed, and Draco began to forget about his predicament with his father. It was easy. Daphne wanted to spend more and more time sealed away in the Astronomy Tower with Sinistra, and Astoria never seemed to want to slow down. If she wasn't devouring books in the library, or stuck in her classes, she was exploring the castle with the determined air of an archeologist, treating Hogwarts like her very own dig site..

It wasn't until the two days after Lavender Brown's name was drawn, a chilly Monday morning, that he was given a rather rude and abrupt reminder of the Draco Malfoy he was attempting to distance himself from.

"Draco!" said Daphne after they were dismissed from Care of Magical Creatures, carrying a book large and oddly shiny book in her arms. "Can you watch Astoria for a bit? I'm helping Sinistra with a new project!" She grinned, brimming with excitement, clutching her book like she worried it would be stolen.

In an instant, Draco saw why. The shiny texture was plastic. It was a muggle book. Draco pulled her away towards the castle gardens where they wouldn't be overheard.

"Are you mad?" said Draco, gripping her arm, "That's a muggle book! What the hell, Daphne?"

Daphne pulled her arms away from Draco, then said in a low hiss, "I'm hoping to be an Astronomer, Draco. This book is research for the project I'm helping Sinistra with. Like it or not, muggles are more advanced in Astrophysics than wizards."

Draco couldn't believe his ears. To say such things could be taken as close to blasphemy. _Nothing is more advanced than a wizard!_ They could manipulate the very ether to their whim, transform objects into whatever suited them, and even create eternal life. What Daphne was saying challenged everything he had ever been made to believe.

"Watch what you're saying, Daphne. Someone could hear."

"I don't care, Draco." said Daphne with a hidden dare in her voice, "Let them."

"It's something a blood traitor would read!"

He expected Daphne to either nod her head in agreement, and go along with him, or become angry and finish her betrayal to her people. Instead, she did neither. For a split second, she looked sad, almost heartbroken, then her face resumed the neutral expression she took on most days.

"I think it's best if you don't watch my sister anymore, Malfoy."

Malfoy.

Over the months Daphne had stopped calling him by his surname. She had instead begun to take to his first name- she and Astoria becoming two of a very select number of students to do so. To hear his surname spoken by her again was jarring, to say the least.

"What the hell does that mean?" said Draco, pulling Daphne back by her arm like he'd seen his father do when arguing with his mother.

"How dare you!" said Daphne, her face contorting with shock and indignation. Immediately, Draco released her, his arm falling to his side like a limp noodle, but it was too late. Daphne shot him a look of absolute revulsion and ran off to her next class.

Draco walked alone to his classes, already missing her presence.

Someone shoved past him. Lavender Brown.

Draco scowled at her. This was all her fault. She had made him acknowledge his behavior. She had made him care.

He continued scowling till she disappeared into Hagrid's hut with Potter, asking Hagrid all sorts of questions about dragons.

"Well, dragons are very vain, you see."

The next morning Draco received an owl from his father, reminding him of the Moody incident. With all the fun he'd been having with Astoria, exploring the hidden corners of Hogwarts, he'd nearly forgotten about it.

It was strange how long it had taken Lucius Malfoy to respond. When the Buckbeak the Hippogriff attacked him last year, Lucius had been at the school making an uproar within months.

 _Draco,_ it said.

_I apologize for the wait. Please know that I have done my absolute best to have Alastor Moody fired for his gall to lay a hand on you, but Dumbledore has most of the Wizengamot on his side._

_Do not hesitate to inform me of any future events._

_-Father_

The letter was short. This didn't surprise Draco. His father hated to admit defeat.

Attached was a care package from his mother that contained sweets and various expensive treats from Diagon Alley. Draco handed them out, thankful for the attention it gave him. Sad as it was, the attention helped fill a void that Daphne and Astoria normally occupied. Down the Slytherin table, he saw Daphne sitting with Astoria. _Maybe I can win them back..._ Draco thought, studying the various chocolates and pastries. He took a few of his favorite sweets- a bar of strange green tea chocolate- and brought them to the girls.

"Here," said Draco, trying to appear suave and confident like he had seen his father do with his mother after an argument.

When Astoria looked at him like he had just insulted her grandmother, he knew he had made a mistake. Her lip curled, and she gave both him and Daphne a look of betrayal before fleeing the Great Hall.

Daphne swore and ran after her.

"Wait!" said Draco, pulling Daphne back, then releasing her when he remembered how that worked out last time. "I don't understand. Why are you so angry? I was just trying to help you. If people find out you're messing around with muggle stuff they'll…"

"They'll what, Malfoy?" said Daphne, "Shun us? Pretend we're dead? I don't care. Astoria's dying, and when that happens I might as well be dead because I'm not sure if I'll be able to live past that. But you know what? None of that matters when I'm looking at the stars. I just see their beauty and their magic. It reminds me that we're not ever actually gone. We're just dust, floating in the grand emptiness of space, waiting to be reborn as something different."

"I don't understand-"

"Then try to!" Daphne pulled the book from her bag, then shoved it in his arms with the ferocity that Draco felt when Granger slapped him last year. "You think that wizards are perfect, and muggles are some sort of animal that makes funny inventions and lives in the dirt because you've never bothered to learn about them. So maybe you should take a few days and try to see the world from their perspective!"

She spun around, advancing towards the double-doors before she turned one last time.

"By the way, the last few months, I don't think I've seen Astoria happier. It's almost like she's found something to live for, so if you could please stop being such an ignorant and selfish muppet, I would appreciate it."

With that final statement, she left, leaving Draco slack-jawed and unresponsive. As she left, as if they were waiting for discourse to come between the three of them, Crabbe and Goyke swooped down on Draco like moths to a flame.

"We're going to go magic Longbottom's legs together and laugh as he tries to hobble away. Want to come?"

Draco took one last glance as Daphne walked through the double doors, and hid the book in his satchel before either Crabbe or Goyle could see it. Reconciliation with her now seemed an almost impossible task as two sides of his person seemed to war between themselves. There was a part of Draco that yearned for nothing more than to open the book, read it, and seek forgiveness from Daphne, and most of all Astoria as quickly as was possible. But another side of him was scared to death of the thought of going that far in the name of change.

That side of him yearned for nothing more than the familiar, comfortable world with Crabbe and Goyle as they tormented students.

That side of him won.

"I'd like nothing better," Draco lied, slinging an arm around them.

When he left through the double doors, he pretended he couldn't see Astoria and Daphne sitting on a bench, as if they were waiting for him to come out and join him.

It would be several days before Draco piped up the courage to even glance at the muggle book that still weighed heavily in his satchel.

It was Saturday afternoon and he was wandering the halls, feeling the stones in the wall for cracks or secret passages like he would with Astoria when he spotted Pansy in the courtyard with Parvati and Lavender, fixing a scarlet quilted sleeve on her arm. He knew that Pansy had a love for tailoring and spinning silk from spiders, but it was off to see her doing it for Parvati and Lavender. As far as he knew, the girls hated one another.

Lavender pulled up her arm to look at it. Though she didn't seem satisfied with the perspective as she pulled out a slip of parchment, and then transfigured it into a mirror.

Later, in the Common Room, he confronted Pansy, who snorted rather hysterically.

"Oh, Well Parvati came to me and asked if I could make Lavender a gambeson for the First Task. And at first I was all, 'no way, you betrayed me and left' but then I thought, what am I doing?" said Pansy, pausing as if waiting for Draco to answer. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes, and continued, "Obviously, it would mean that I could have the Hogwarts Champion owe me a life debt, and I might even get Parvati back! Duh,"

"Cunning," said Draco, nodding with approval.

"And, who knows?" gushed Pansy, "It offers up a world of possibilities for fun!"

"Okay…" said Draco slowly "But Aren't you worried your dad will find out? I thought Parvati was a blood traitor."

"So?" Pansy snorted again, pulling out a mirror and adjusted her bangs. "I'll just tell him I did it to get publicity for the company. Which is partially true, I guess. And who cares, the drama that spilling out with Lavender and that Granger girl is worth it. Did you know they got into a catfight earlier? Oh, man. That was… I mean, I was trying to get the two of them to bicker because I knew it would drive Parvati into my arms, but Circe's tits! I wasn't expecting that! It would have been perfect if it weren't for the beetle that flew up on my shoulder."

There was intense joviality in Pansy's voice as she described in great detail the fighting and drama that Draco normally would have been all too happy to join, but lately, he had only been craving Astoria's company. It was all he could think of; how he could get her to smile at him again, how said smile could light up a dark room.

"Not only that, but Weasley walked in while I was fitting Lavender, and he got this hilarious look on his face when he saw her covered in spiders." said Pansy, her voice heavy with barely contained laughter.

"Isn't he scared of spiders?" said Draco, "And wait- you don't mind covering youself and others in spiders, but a beetle flying on your shoulder is where you draw the line?

Draco remembered the giant spider that had appeared in front of Ron Weasley when their class was practicing Riddikulus against a boggart in their third year. He hadn't had a chance to fight it. Potter just had to steal the show with his stupid Dementor!Boggart.

"Spiders are cool. And yeah," Pansy snorted maliciously, "I guess he is scared of them."

With the book still weighing down his satchel, he said goodnight to Pansy and trekked up the stairs to his dorm to read.

While he read he began to understand Daphne's fascination. While he couldn't grasp most of the math, the parts he could understand made sense in a logical sort of way. Muggles didn't need magic to see planets far from the reach of regular telescopes- they used math, logic, and changes in light.

Perhaps most fascinating of all was that, using those methods, muggles could detect planets thousands of light years beyond what wizards had accomplished.

And then he read something that made him almost throw the book away because it couldn't be true. It had to be a lie.

According to the book, muggles had landed on the moon over fifty years ago.

It was impossible. It was ridiculous. Many a wizard had claimed to invent a broomstick that could reach space, but all claims had proven false. Space was empty- a cold vacuum that killed you as soon as you touched it. You'd have to depend on an enchanted jumpsuit to keep you safe, and even then you had to figure out a way to go fast enough to reach the moon before you starved to death.

Even on a Firebolt, the fastest broom ever invented, the journey would take a little over two months.

The thought that muggles had achieved something wizards could only dream about was almost too much to process. So much so that he didn't hear Crabbe and Goyle approach his bed until it was almost too late.

"What are you reading?" said Crabbe as Draco shoved the book back in his satchel.

"Nothing," said Draco, lying smoothly, "Just something I nicked from the library while Pince wasn't watching."

Crabbe grunted, but said nothing more. Draco didn't expect him to. He wasn't even certain Crabbe could read.

He finished reading the book by Monday, then set out to find Daphne and Astoria so that he could- ugh- apologize. Although it practically hurt, the thought of Astoria being mad at him was worse. But it was still more than that. What Daphne had said about Astoria liking his presence stuck with him.

He was needed.

He was wanted.

The feeling was a type of human connection that, until now, he hadn't realized how much he craved. The feeling of actually contributing something other than heartache and misery felt good in a way that Draco never, in all his wildest dreams, thought he could feel.

It made him feel happy if he dared to even dream it.

He found the two of them in their usual spot in the library, except this time Daphne was busy braiding Astoria's hair instead of reading.

"I'm sorry," said Draco, approaching slowly. He pulled out the book and handed it back to Daphne, "You were right. Muggles- it seems that muggles have some… areas… in which they are more... advanced."

Daphne nodded, but pushed the book back to Draco. "Keep it for now. I have a few others. Maybe it'll remind you that you're not God's gift to wizardkind."

"Why are you two in Slytherin?" said Draco, sitting on a beanbag chair across from Daphne.

"Because I want to explore space," said Daphne, lifting her head to give Draco a wide, mad grin. "I want to go to the moon, I want to go to Mars. I want to go where no wizard has gone before, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get there."

"And you?" said Draco to Astoria.

Astoria shrugged half-heartedly, "I guess I just didn't want to be anywhere else."

Draco nodded, accepting the short answer.

The next day passed quickly. The school was abuzz with excitement for the upcoming Hogsmeade trip and the First Task, with rumors going this way and that. Pansy Parkinson would have normally been responsible for half of them, but she seemed busy with a scarlet gambeson quilted with gold floss that she could be seen working on in the Common Room, covered in various spiders that were helping her make it, causing her fellow Slytherins more than a fair amount of concern.

Tonight, the Common Room was fairly empty. Pansy's spider fueled project had scared off most of their fellow students, causing them to seek company elsewhere. Draco and Astoria were among the few that had dared to stay.

While watching her make the said gambeson, Draco heard the Slytherin secret entrance open. Next to him, Astoria looked up from the book she was reading and gasped, causing Draco to look up as well. He expected Crabbe, or Goyle, or Nott, or Zabini, or some other random Slytherin. Anyone but who he saw instead.

It was Lucius Malfoy. He entered the Slytherin Common Room with an air of authority, the green light making his long, blonde, and slicked-back hair practically glow.

"Follow me," said Lucius, heading straight for the fourth year boy's dorm.

"Father, what's wrong?"

Lucius turned around quickly; his face a picture of cold fury.

"What's wrong?" said Lucius, "What's wrong is that my son has betrayed me."

"What?" Draco racked his head with a sinking feeling developing in his stomach. "Father, I would never betray you."

"Don't lie to me!" Lucius pulled open his trunk, tossing around the items. "Where is it? Where is the book?"

Instinctively, Draco looked to his satchel which Lucius immediately grabbed, emptying it onto the floor. Upon seeing the book, he pointed his wand at it, sending a blast of fire that reduced the book to ashes and sent the smell of burnt plastic wafting through the room.

"Father-" said Draco, trying not to let his voice falter, but failing miserably. Daphne had trusted him with the book, and now it was ruined. He was a failure as a son, and now a friend. Unable to help himself, he yelled, "Why did you do that? It was just a book!"

"It was poison!" said Lucius, drawing himself to his full height, causing Draco to step back, out of arm's reach like he had seen Dobby do countless times, feeling the world start to fall from under him. Something hot and wet dripped down Draco's face, and he realized he was crying. Lucius's lip curled, and he began to speak in a calmer tone, gently grabbing Draco's shoulders, and forcing him to look upwards at Lucius. "I'm not a monster, Draco. I'm only doing this because I love you, and want to be the best you can be."

Lucius smoothed back Draco's hair until it resembled his own.

"I'm sorry that this has upset you, Draco," said Lucius calmly, gripping Draco's shoulders with a grip that felt like iron. "But let me be clear. You will not ever read such material again. I forbid you to even look at them."

Behind them, the door opened with a bang. It was Snape with Astoria behind him, her eyes wide and fearful. Next to both of them was Pansy, the several spiders hanging off of her displaying the quickness she had left her project with. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously.

"Mr. Malfoy," said Snape with an oily voice as he surveyed the normally tidy room, now strewn with clothes, books, and various toys from Draco's trunk, and the pile of ash from Daphne's book. "How nice to see you. Is there something I can help you with?"

"No," said Lucius in reply, "We're all done here. I was about to leave."

"Then may I help show you to my fireplace? I have a floo portal to my favorite potions shop that you are welcome to use. I dare say it would be more comfortable than a walk through the cold and mud to the nearest Apparition point."

"That sounds lovely, Professor Snape. Thank you." Lucius bent down, kissing Draco's head. "Goodbye, Draco. I love you. And remember- behave."

"I will, Father, said Draco, feeling almost numb as he said it, "I love you, too."


	9. AKA Snitches and Flowers

_It was nearly Draco's sixth birthday. Lucius was at work, and Narcissa was busy. Normally, Draco would be playing with Dobby, but as Narcissa had sent him to clean the ballroom for Draco's birthday party, he had been left to play by himself._

_Bored, and feeling ignored without Dobby to keep the loneliness at bay, Draco decided to wander and explore. Where better could he go than the secret basement his father always took his friends into during their monthly meetings? It was against the rules, but Draco knew that his father's collection of Dark objects were hidden there._

_Carefully, silently, while his mother berated Dobby for an antique couch he had left undusted, Draco snuck into the basement. Inside, he found shelves upon shelves of some of the most ghastly and gruesome items he'd ever seen in his six short years. They floated in glowing jars, sat ontop dusty dark shelves, and waited for victims' abaft boxes and other various containers._

_It was then that Draco saw it. Something that sat beyond the shelves, in between twin Grecian columns and behind a thin sheet of glimmering glass; on display as if it were an object to be worshipped._

_It was a diary. A simple, black, leather-bound diary that looked almost muggle._

_Something about it hypnotized Draco. Something about it scared him. Needless to say, he left as soon as he could._

_He returned less than two weeks later to spy on his father's monthly meetings. His father joined Mr. Nott, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, and several others, all wearing dark robes and masks. They surrounded the diary while his father spoke, then lifted the glass. All of a sudden, Draco felt as if an evil presence had entered the room._

_In fright, he fled. He didn't see the diary for another six years._

_When he was twelve, Draco left home with his mother and father to Diagon Alley. That morning, Dobby had served them breakfast with trembling hands, bandaged and showing off fresh burns from the iron. His overly large eyes kept glancing at Lucius's coat with prominent fear. Once they arrived at Diagon Alley, Draco found out why._

_As he was recovering his balance from Apparition and Draco clutched to his arm, Draco saw the diary tucked inside his waistcoat, it's evil concealed and almost dormant._

_Barely two hours later as Lucius sat on a bench across from Flourish and Blotts recovering from his fight with Mr. Weasley, Draco saw it once again in Ginny's cauldron. Something uncomfortable settled inside Draco as he watched the girl march off, and his father sneering victoriously._

_Draco wished he were home with Dobby. He was a stupid servant, and constantly screwed everything up, but he was fun to play with._

_The last time he saw the diary it was at Hogwarts. Lucius had been summoned to Hogwarts, likely to deal with all the petrifications around the school. He came with Dobby in tow, his long spindly fingers freshly burned and bandaged once again, cowering behind Lucius. With an air of nonchalance, Lucius bent down, kissing the temple of Draco's head before he went to see Dumbledore._

_Less than fifteen minutes later, Lucius reappeared without Dobby, holding in his hand the diary, now stained with ink and something that smelled like sewage. His face was a picture of rage so great he practically foamed at the mouth._

_Knowing full well what happened to those that angered Lucius Malfoy, Draco ran out of his path, stepping behind him and hoping to at least get a good-bye before his father left for home._

_"Where's Dobby?" said Draco tentatively, unable to help but wonder what had happened to the stupid servant._

_It was the wrong question to ask. Almost immediately, Lucius spun around with a snarl on his lips and spittle at his mouth._

_"Dobby has betrayed us," said Lucius, his tone low and final, "He is dead."_

**Chapter Nine: In Which Draco Throws Some Pebbles**

By the next morning, Draco's dorm was clean; his clothes, books, and other various possessions from his trunk were no longer strewn about, and aside from a small scorch mark on the floor, there was no sign that Lucius Malfoy had ever visited. Blaise Zabini glanced at the burn but said nothing before leaving for Chess Club. Theodore Nott barely looked in Draco's direction at all while scurrying for breakfast. Crabbe and Goyle were gone by the time Draco woke up.

Once Everyone was gone, Draco began his investigation.

Someone turned him in. Someone betrayed his trust, and since he had only read the book in his dorm (an admittedly stupid idea) the suspects were either Zabini, Nott, Crabbe, or Goyle.

He started with Nott. Upon finding nothing without upturning belongings and making his investigation obvious, Draco moved onto Zabini.

Nothing.

That left Crabbe and Goyle. The two that Draco had been dreading.

They were his friends. Or at least, Draco thought they were his friends.

Goyle had nothing except for a few Quidditch magazines that he had almost assuredly stolen from one of his classmates. One of the many things that both Crabbe and Goyle had in common was that their family's, while not poor, were both quite stingy with their money. They didn't believe in wasteful spending.

Crabbe's trunk contained several expensive toys but lacked any incriminating evidence. Draco was about to give up when he saw a piece of parchment sticking out from under his pillow. He grabbed it.

_Vincent,_

_That is most definitely some concerning news. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. Your loyalty will not be forgotten._

There was no name on the letter, but Draco could tell who it was from by the heavy expensive parchment it was written on, and the curve of the letters.

Lucius Malfoy.

The betrayal felt heavy on his soul, and for more than a second, Draco was tempted to rush out and confront Crabbe about it. In fact, he had dressed, combed his hair, and stomped down half of the stairs to the common room before he realized that Crabbe would likely deny ever doing such a thing, and Draco had no proof besides an oddly cryptic letter.

And what could Draco do in any case? Telling on Draco had broken no school rules. Best case scenario, Snape gave Crabbe a lecture- worst-case scenario Draco received detention for rummaging through Crabbe's things.

With more than a little reluctance, Draco placed the letter back where he had found it, reminding himself that the knowledge that Crabbe was feeding his father information could potentially come in handy one day. He then left once again, arriving at breakfast in time to grab a few slices of toast and an apple before heading to classes.

They had Transfiguration with the Gryffindors first thing that morning.

"Today we will be practicing _Orchideous!_ , which is a Conjuring spell," said McGonagall in a loud clear voice before mumbling _Orchideous_ , causing a large bouquet to erupt from her wand. Next to Parvati, Lavender, who looked somewhat different than usual, squealed with delight and clapped her hands, her screechy voice piercing Draco's eardrums and making him want to claw at his face.

He scowled. Flowers were the last thing on his mind at the moment. Daphne could ask for her book back any day. Last night he had just barely managed to convince Astoria not to tell her what happened, and that he would replace the book. Surprisingly, she didn't seem mad. She had just hugged him before she went to bed, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Profesor, can I have the flowers?" Next to him, Pansy thrust her hand in the air excitedly while asking. McGonagall nodded, then passed the flowers to Pansy.

"Now, remember that conjured items usually only last for a few days at the longest before disappearing. I would like you all to write twelve inches on why that is before the end of the week." McGonagall clapped her hands together, "Now, get to work everyone. I expect this classroom to be brimming with flowers by the end of the session."

 _Where would I go to get a muggle book?_ The question weighed on Draco's mind and was probably why when his attempts at conjuring the bouquets resulted in mostly dead flowers. On one occasion, he had even conjured some partially rotted roses.

He heard Weasley #6 snort when that happened.

Justice, however, was quick when Weasley #6's next bouquet consisted of dead fish wrapped in a neat bow. Next to him, Granger moved to the edge of her seat, as far away from it as possible. Potter had sent him a particularly hilarious gagging face to which Weasley #6 responded by throwing him the dead fish.

_Granger could probably get me a muggle book._

The only problem, of course, was that Granger was a Mudblood. If reading, or having muggle goods was an act of betrayal, then making a deal with Granger to get her to smuggle him in a muggle book would be like a stab in the back with a dull knife. Not only that, but Draco also felt quite a bit of reluctance to go to Granger of all people.

 _So what am I supposed to do? The honorable thing to do would be to replace Daphne's book, but how do I do that without betraying Father?_ The question nagged at Draco throughout the class, as his bouquets grew increasingly more rotten and mismatched. _Father always taught me to do right by my friends. And he always does right by Mother, too, even if they fight sometimes. So I have to replace the book as it's my fault it got ruined._

" _Orchideous!_ " shouted Draco, conjuring a large bouquet of Orange Blossoms that were more dead than alive. He growled and pushed them away, joining a growing array of rotting bouquets that were all in various stages of disappearing.

"That's quite a lot of dead flowers," said McGonagall, appearing by Draco's desk with a rather concerned look on her face. Or at least Draco thought it was concerned. Her lips were drawn together tightly in a slightly downturned frown but didn't shout 'sad'.

"I'm trying," said Draco tightly.

"I don't doubt that." said McGonagall, "Is there something troubling you?"

"I'm fine," said Draco with a hiss, attempting the spell again but summoning another bouquet of dead flowers, this time buttercups.

"Of course," McGonagall's lips thinned even more. "Mr. Malfoy, would you please see me after class?"

Draco groaned, putting his head down on his desk and feeling the beginning of a migraine.

The rest of the class passed uneventfully. Granger, of course, finished the lesson by producing a beautiful bouquet of perfect English Roses that practically sparkled. Draco wanted to burn them to bits. He resisted, however, and sat at his desk until the entirety of the classroom had filed out before walking up to McGonagall's desk.

"What did you want to see me about?" said Draco sullenly.

"I'm concerned," said McGonagall, "As well as Professor Snape."

"Concerned?"

"Professor Snape told me about your father's visit last night." said McGonagall flatly, before standing up, walking to Draco's desk and picking up the bouquet of rotted Orange Blossoms, "Please, follow me to my office."

"Why?"

"Mr. Malfoy, it will take two minutes. I simply have something I would like to give you." McGonagall said sharply. Reluctantly, and fully expecting a trap considering McGonagall was in cahoots with Dumbledore, who hated his father and by extension himself, Draco followed McGonagall to her office.

The office was small and sparse, and very fitting for McGonagall in Draco's opinion. The fireplace was quite large and warm, with a desk beside it, and along the walls were several bookcases. McGonagall went to the farthest one in a beeline. She browsed them for a good couple of minutes before pulling off an old looking tomb with several different symbols that Draco recognized from the alchemical book Astoria was reading when he first met her.

" _Alchemy, An Introduction._ It was written by Nicholas Flamel before he died," said McGonagall brightly, passing the book to Draco, "Professor Snape and I both thought it might do you some good to start reading about it. Now, you won't be ready for any sort of alchemical work for another good couple of years, but there are some theories that you can start reading about. Alchemy, after all, is half philosophy."

Draco held the book mutely, thinking for a few minutes before saying, "What does that mean?"

"Alchemy at its heart is about the purification, maturation, and perfection of organic, and inorganic materials," said McGonagall, pointing her wand at the bouquet of rotted Orange Blossoms and muttering. All at once, the rot began to fall off, and the Orange Blossoms turned fresh as if they had just been plucked. "Using alchemy, you can liberate an object from it's fixed physical properties. But this doesn't just apply to a physical object. It can also apply to your person."

"So," said Draco, clutching the old book, feeling more than a little confused, "Alchemists use alchemy to not only transfigure elements but also transfigure themselves?"

"Not quite," said McGonagall, "They take the transformative philosophy of Alchemy and apply it to their lives. They take what is undesirable, or 'lead', and turn it into something valuable, or to 'gold', in a figurative sense, of course."

Draco stared at the Orange Blossoms. If someone else walked into the office at that moment, they would have never guessed that they were rotted and falling apart just a few minutes prior.

"Why do you care?" asked Draco, resisting the urge to wince at how rude he sounded. If his mother were there she would have scolded him. "I mean, about whether or not Alchemy would be good for me."

"Contrary to popular belief, Mr. Malfoy, I care about all my students, not just the Gryffindors," said McGonagall softly. She took a piece of parchment from her desk as well as a quill, scribbling a note on it. "For Professor Moody- I believe Defense Against the Dark Arts was your next class?"

Draco nodded, and took the note, turning to leave. He put the book in his satchel carefully, wondering if the book might help him with his dilemma. I wonder… "Professor…" said Draco carefully, "Could I ask a question?"

"Of course, but be quick. I won't keep you from class for much longer," said McGonagall sternly.

"My father… Last night he found out that I had something in my possession he didn't approve of. I was keeping it for a friend but he… er- he destroyed it, thinking it was mine. If I replace it, he will think I'm betraying him, but I- I want to replace it for my friend as it was given to them as a gift." Draco paused then continued, "How do I know what to do?"

"That is indeed a dilemma," said McGonagall, sighing. She sat down at her desk, her face drawn and weary. With a flourish, she conjured a chair across from her desk and motioned for Draco to sit down. "What do you think would be the honorable decision?"

Draco wanted to scowl, but he managed to keep a straight face. McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor House. Of course, she would want him to choose the honorable option. "Not betraying my father would be honorable,"

"Would it?"

Draco thought for a moment, shifting his satchel and feeling the weight of his new book's addition. "I- Well… If I don't replace Daphne's book then I'd be dishonoring her, wouldn't I?"

"Was it your fault?" said McGonagall, "Because it sounds to me like it was Lucius Malfoy who dishonored himself by destroying an item that didn't belong to him."

"He was just trying to protect me!" Draco insisted, starting to feel more confused than he did before consulting with McGonagall. "He didn't do anything that any parent wouldn't do."

McGonagall's lips thinned till they very nearly disappeared. "I don't have children, Mr. Malfoy. But I can assure you that if I did, and I caught them reading material that I disapproved of, I most certainly would not barge into their school uninvited to destroy their book."

Put in that context, Draco could see where Lucius's reaction may have been overboard. But the guilt at potentially betraying his father yet again still nagged at him. "So how- how do I know which path to pick? I don't want to betray my father."

"Why would replacing your friend's item be betraying your father, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall paused to let her words sink in, then continued, "In my experience, the right thing to do is rarely ever easy, and often requires quite a bit of courage,"

"I'm not brave,"

"Mr. Malfoy, courage is a skill just like any other. It takes practice to develop," McGonagall then stood up once again, motioning for Draco to follow, then opened her office door.

"So is that it then? I just have to practice at being brave?"

McGonagall gave him a long and heavy look before replying, "Eventually there is going to come a day where you will have to decide between the man you've been conditioned to be and the man you want to be. When that day comes, you'll be glad for the practice. Now, off to class. Professor Moody has been away and has just returned. He'll be eager to see all his students in class."

Upon arriving in Moody's class, the first thing that Draco noticed was that Potter was staring at him with his stupid green eyes. The third thing he noticed was that the only seat open was the one next to Potter and Granger. The third thing he noticed was that Moody was sporting a rather ugly black eye.

"Good of you to join us, Mr. Malfoy," growled Moody threateningly. Draco stiffened but refused to cower in front of Moody. The man hadn't tried to turn him into a ferret or throw him down the corridors since McGonagall rushed to his rescue three months ago.

It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't once said thank you to her. Not even after being given the book.

_Why should I say thank you? I'm a Malfoy. Malfoy's don't say thank you._

The new alchemy book weighed heavily in his satchel as he silently handed Moody the note and took a seat next to Potter and Granger who both seemed to refuse to take his eyes off of Draco. _Oh, look at me. I'm Potter, which means I'm perfect, and I can do whatever I want, even if it's fucking rude._ It was tempting to glare at him or make a face, but Draco ignored him in favor of plotting out how to get ahold of a muggle-

Shit.

Granger was a Mudblood. Both her parents were muggles. She could easily ask them for some weird muggle book.

_No. I can't. I can't just go walking up to a Mudblood ask them to order me a book. If someone saw me… If Father destroyed a book just because I read it, what would he do if he saw me getting chummy with a Mudblood? Besides, why would I want to? They're practically dogs._

But even Draco had to admit that Granger was one of, if not the ablest witch in their year. She beat Draco in exams every year, something that his father never let him forget.

When class ended, Draco hurried out of the classroom as quickly as possible. Lunch sounded amazing at that moment, and he couldn't wait to pack a few sandwiches and apples away and find a quiet corner to sulk in.

Unfortunately, life seemed to have other plans.

"Hey," said Astoria, ambushing him at the table, "So I talked to Daphne, and she said that she got her book from Hermione Granger because all the books in the Muggle Studies section of the library were rubbish and completely outdated, and- ...Is that… Not good?"

Draco moaned and buried his head in his arms at the table. Before he could answer, Crabbe and Goyle appeared behind him.

"Malfoy," said Goyle, "Why have you been acting so weird? You've been absent these past couple months, and now it seems like you're just avoiding us."

"I haven't been avoiding you," said Draco, "I've just been concentrating more on my studies. You're welcome to join me in the library."

Goyle grunted, and Draco smirked inwardly, knowing that Crabbe and Goyle avoided contact with the library like the plague, or anything book related for that matter. He wasn't even sure they could read.

"Fine," said Crabbe, "But Pansy is also avoiding us. So what are we supposed to do?"

"Pansy is working on an important project for one of the Hogwarts Champions," said Draco, though he suspected that the 'important project' also meant getting far too involved in Parvati and Lavender's personal lives. "She'll be back to tormenting students with you before you know it."

They both grunted then left, allowing Draco to breathe a sigh of relief. His father had never said that he _had_ to hang out with them. If anything, his mother might approve of the termination of their friendship.

Feeling eyes on him, Draco surveyed the Great Hall and saw Potter staring at him with those big, stupid green eyes yet again, then whisper something the Granger who turned and looked at him as well. There was a pause where she frowned, then rolled her eyes and shook her head before whispering severely back to Potter.

It made Draco want to laugh. Even the Mudblood seemed to understand how stupid Potter was.

"So anyway," said Astoria, "If you still want to replace it, all you have to do is ask her and she should be able to get the same book. But like I said last night, just talk to her and she'll understand."

"I don't want to talk about it," hissed Draco, snapping his hand on the table. It was an action he'd seen his father do more times than he could count whenever Lucius was annoyed or stressed, and it was something Draco hated. It made his teeth grind, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He never imagined he would do it as well.

Astoria stiffened, then shrank away from him. She stood up briskly and said very quietly, "You don't have to talk about it. You just have to tell Daphne the book got damaged. She'll understand that it wasn't your fault." she walked away, muttering, "It won't work, anyways."

Once she had left, Draco pounded the table with his fist again out of frustration. At every turn, he was attempting to not be his father, but he kept turning into him time and time again. And time and time again it was coming in between his relationship with Astoria. He looked up and saw Potter staring at him again with suspicious green eyes, and he scowled back with a wave of blistering anger bubbling beneath the surface.

After a few moments, they broke their gaze and went back to their respective lunches.

 _Astoria is right…_ thought Draco, _Father burned the book. Not me. But then why do I feel so guilty? I shouldn't feel guilty, it wasn't my fault!_

He's your father.

_So? I'm not responsible for his actions._

But he doesn't care. He just wants you to be his little purebred clone who proves that his notions about pureblood supremacy are right.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut tight, blinding him from his surroundings, hoping it would stop the torrent of thoughts flooding his mind.

He forced himself to take another bite, then left the Great Hall.

A week later, Draco had almost forgotten about the affair with the book. Mostly due to Astoria who had, thankfully, forgiven his rude behavior at lunch and pulled him along on a trek through the dungeons at Hogwarts holding a jar filled with a blue flame for light.

"I'm sorry again," said Draco sullenly, "I didn't mean to yell at you-"

"Yes you did," said Astoria, "Or at least, you meant to yell. I was just closest. And really, forget about it. Just… Remember I'm on your side. You don't need to feel defensive around me."

"I'm not defensive-"

Astoria made a strangled snort-like noise like she was holding in a laugh, before descending further into the disused area of the dungeons, and holding up the blue-flame jar whilst feeling the wall with her free hand. She reminded Draco of something like an explorer, and not for the first time, Draco wondered why she was in Slytherin, and not Gryffindor. Truly, the girl would have been happier there.

"So what are we doing today?" said Draco, mimicking her movements. He felt a rush of air behind him, like a ghost that had followed the two of them on their exploration. But a glance behind him revealed nothing but shadows. Even casting a _Lumos_ showed nothing but dust and cobwebs.

"Looking for a hidden room," said Astoria giddily, "I found it down here last year while hiding from Daphne. There is a stone in the wall that's loose."

"Why were you hiding from Daphne?" said Draco, focusing his _Lumos_ on the wall so that Astoria could see better.

"She doesn't like exploring the castle, so if I ever want to run around when I'm with her, I have to sneak away." said Astoria, "Mummy and Daddy say I have to have someone with me because if I fall and get hurt I could bleed to death."

"Why?" said Draco, now curious. Astoria didn't usually like talking about her blood curse.

"Something weird with my blood. It doesn't clot like it's supposed to. The Healers call it a blood curse, but…" She made an odd noise with her tongue, then shook her head, "But what do I know, I'm twelve…"

"What do you know?" Draco pushed. He liked hearing Astoria talk. Even if he didn't understand half the things she talked about- facts about space she'd gotten from Daphne, why nail polish was the most horrible thing, whether or not she should wear a dutch or french braid- he like hearing he babble her way through it. "Do you disagree with the healers?"

"No… Not quite…" said Astoria, "But I can't help but wonder if there is a different perspective,"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look at space. Wizards don't exactly care about what is out there. We don't care about looking for aliens, or-"

"Aliens?"

"Life forms on other planets,"

"Are you out of your mind?"

"It's hypothetical, don't worry about it," said Astoria dismissively, "The point is that most wizards don't care about stuff like that. We look at the galaxy to predict the future, or how to use it to manipulate our magic. Muggles look at the galaxy and try to figure out how it works because well… Honestly, I don't know why..."

Draco stopped, forcing Astoria to stop with him, "Are you saying that you want a muggle perspective on your blood curse?"

"Well, that's why I'm a Slytherin, isn't it?" Astoria continued on her way, feeling the grooves of the wall, then said, "Ah! Found it!" There was a clicking noise, and suddenly the stones fell away to reveal a door.

"What does that mean?" said Draco rudely, "Why would you want a muggle perspective, and how would that have anything to do with being a Slytherin?"

Astoria gave him an odd look, then said, "Isn't it obvious? Throughout history, the large majority of Dark wizards have been Slytherins because one of the things they had in common was that they were willing to do whatever it took to reach their goals- including breaking the law, or doing weird, Dark, possibly satanic rituals. Well, I'm the same way. I've got a blood curse I can't get rid of, and I want answers. If wizards can't provide them, maybe muggles can."

Something clicked in Draco as he followed Astoria into the hidden room, his _Lumos_ revealing a cozy room filled with several old and overstuffed armchairs, couches, and an unlit fireplace. When Daphne showed him her book initially, he had reacted by scorning it and shrugging it off. She had immediately cut ties with him, acting as if it were poisoning her sister.

Looking at Astoria now, practically glowing in the blue firelight from her jar, Draco had to wonder if he was. Bits of his father kept creeping out, no matter how hard Draco tried. How long would it be until Lucius succeeded in turning Draco into him?

"We should mark this on a map," said Astoria brightly, turning to Draco, pulling him from his thoughts, "You wouldn't happen to have parchment on you, would you?"

"Yeah," said Draco, rummaging in his satchel, then felt the alchemy book McGonagall had given him. He still hadn't read it. He still hadn't thanked her.

Pushing the thought away, he pulled out parchment and quill, then handed them to Astoria who snatched it eagerly and sat down on an armchair and began sketching out their trail badly.

"Here, let me," said Draco, taking the parchment away, sat on an armchair next to Astoria, then started drawing out the map a little more neatly. From the door, there was a small noise that could have been footsteps or wing flaps.

"So you can fly _and_ you can draw?" said Astoria with a giggle, not seeming to have noticed. Draco decided to brush it off as it being a bat. "What does Lucius Malfoy think of that?"

"He hates it. He says that it makes me soft, and is a symptom of him spoiling me." Draco frowned, pressing the quill down too hard and making a large splot of ink. Lucius also hated that Draco wasn't good enough to beat Harry Potter in Quidditch, despite spending a small fortune in brooms for the Slytherin team.

"Oh…" Astoria leaned over and rested her chin on her hand, "So, are you going to ask Granger to re-order the book for Daphne?"

"I-" Draco stopped sketching, " I don't know. I can't- If Father finds out, there'll be hell to pay."

"I could ask for you,"

"No,"

"Why?"

"Because,"

Astoria sighed, then said, "Is this one of those boy things?"

"Boy things?"

She grinned, her face looking like a demon in the dim light, "You know, those things where boys don't want to help because their manliness won't allow it?"

"Absolutely not," lied Draco. Seeing right through it, Astoria giggled yet again, then reclined into the armchair closing her eyes. She looked like she might fall asleep right there, with her hair covered in cobwebs and dust, and Draco didn't know if he'd ever seen anything more beautiful. "Maybe… But this is still something I want to do myself."

"Alright," said Astoria with a yawn, "I don't understand, but I'll go along with it. Daphne has a ton of muggle space books anyways. But don't tell Pansy, Millie, or Tracey that. They'd make her life hell if they knew."

More muggle books.

"Of course not," said Draco, and he surprised himself when he realized he meant it. "Come on, we should get going. Curfew'll be in about an hour."

"Mm-hmm," said Astoria with a mumble. She hopped off the armchair and winced as she shakily stood up, "Ouch… I think I should go to Madame Pomfrey… She has potions I'm supposed to take when my joints act up, or if I get nosebleeds."

"Here," said Draco, crouching in front of her, "Hop on,"

"Are you offering to give me a piggyback ride? Do you think I'm five?"

"Just hop on! Oof-!" said Draco as Astoria jumped and landed on his back. For a few seconds, he struggled to get his bearings, but eventually managed to shift their weight enough for him to carry Astoria out of the room, and climb up through the dungeon. "Good lord, you're heavy."

"Thank you!" chirped Astoria, pulling her arms around his shoulders to get a better grip.

Slowly but surely, the two of them made their way through the halls towards the Hospital Wing. Astoria became strangely quiet on the trip, and Draco in his worry picked up the pace, despite the aching in his muscles. He found Madame Pomfrey taking care of a couple of First Years who had just taken some Pepper Up Potion by the looks of the steam coming out of their ears.

Draco sat Astoria down on a bed where she drew the blanket around her and curled up.

Upon seeing them, Madame Pomfrey came bustling over and started murmuring to Astoria too quietly for Draco to hear. She left after a few moments, presumably to get some potions and Draco hoped she would be back soon. He didn't want to stay, just the smell of the Hospital Wing alone was enough to set his teeth on edge and make his back ache as if Moody had thrown him down the corridor again.

"I'm sorry…" said Astoria, "You weren't supposed to see this,"

"See what?"

She rolled over and gave him a piercing look, "Me," said Astoria, "In a hospital bed. It's not just when I fall… Sometimes my joints will just start bleeding, and it won't stop. It hurts. It makes me feel old and helpless, and even angry," She paused, then she continued, "I think… I think you and I are alike in that way."

"What do you mean by that?" Draco replied in a voice that shouldn't have sounded as cross as it did. _What does she know?_ Whispered a traitorous voice. _How could she even begin to compare our situations?_

"Come on, Draco," said Astoria, "You don't think I felt how much my knees hurt even before we went down to the dungeon? Why do you think I was so tired? Why do you think I always look so sick? I bleed all the time- most of it you just don't see. Except when I brush my teeth so hard. Then my mouth tastes like blood all morning." She gave a short, sharp huff, "I tell myself it doesn't matter. And it helps, running around and playing, breathing fresh air-"

"Do you think this is the same thing?" Draco's voice came fast and gruff, "Astoria, I don't understand how they compare."

"Well, I feel like you lie to yourself about your father,"

"What the fuck?" spat Draco, "You don't even know my father," He crossed his arms and leaned back, glaring daggers as he did so.

"No, but I saw the way you looked the other day after your father yelled at you. Draco, you looked scared-" Astoria's voice remained frustratingly calm, despite the turbulence evident in his own.

 _Why the fuck are you so calm? Yell, scream at me. I'm not exactly being the image of propriety myself._ "Yes, well, how the fuck am I supposed to explain that to Daphne?"

"Why would you need to explain it?"

"She'll want to _know_ ,"

"Know what?"

The words were in Draco's mouth, but they refused to come out. Instead, he settled on bursting out of his chair, causing Astoria to flinch backward in surprise. He growled in frustration. The events of last week were still there in his head. He could remember it clear as day, but he still couldn't seem to say it.

"I should go," said Draco gruffly.

"Draco-"

Suddenly, the words began to spill like a dam held back far too long, "What the fuck am I supposed to say to Daphne? 'I'm sorry, Daphne. But my beast of a father quite literally burned your book to ashes because he couldn't stand the idea of me not being a little miniature clone of himself.' I mean, not to mention the fact that he deemed it necessary to come to Hogwarts over the whole issue at all!"

There was a stretch of silence between them that lasted for quite a while. Draco was facing the wall opposite Astoria, and couldn't see her face. But he could picture the stony look she was likely sending him when she responded with a curt and polite, "Do you feel better?"

"No," said Draco, mussing up his hair.

"Then I feel like maybe you were right, and you should go and find something else to do until you do feel better."

He felt like shit for yelling at Astoria. He felt angry because Astoria was being so reasonable. _Oh yes, how dare she be reasonable._

"Fuck off,"

Draco sprang away, not bothering to turn back around and see how Astoria had reacted. He didn't want to. He wanted out of the Hospital Wing, and for the first time, he wanted away from Astoria.

 _I don't lie to myself!_ Thought Draco as he paced angrily through the corridors, counting down the seconds till curfew would force him back to his dorm. He didn't want to be around other people at the moment, so he settled for walking, eventually making his way to the Black Lake where he sat in the grass to think. _What would I be lying about anyways? That my father isn't a good person? I know he isn't a good person._

But then he remembered something McGonagall had said. That what Lucius had done was not normal. The thought was unsettling, and not one he wanted to dwell on. But the damage had already been done. The lie had been uncovered. _Does he love me? Or is he just feigning it? After all, he's never cared about anything to do with me unless it benefitted him. But if that's the case, why go to such lengths? He's always said that he loves me. That counts for something, right?_ But there was a further, more chilling thought that lingered in the back of Draco's mind, _What if he's lying to himself, too? What if he's just pretending to love me because that's the only way he knows how? Or he loves me because I'm like him._

 _Maybe that's why he was so upset._ Draco threw a pebble towards the lake in an angry fit. than another. And another. _He was upset because he wants me to be like him so that he can continue to practice this whole fucking facade of normalcy._

A facade of normalcy.

Fuck.

That was what Astoria was getting at.

Grumbling swear words under his breath, Draco stood up and started his way back towards the castle. _I should get back and apologize. Fuck, but what do I say?_ He was so wrapped up in his head, monologuing ways he could admit his defeat to Astoria without her smirking and saying the dreaded 'I told you so,' that he nearly ran into Granger just outside the courtyard, who was carrying a package under her arm.

"Ah, Malfoy," said Granger in a stifled sort of way, "I was just looking for you."

"You were?" sneered Draco, "Why?"

"To give you this," Granger held out the package. Inside was the same book that Daphne had given him just a few weeks prior. _No, not the same. It's just another copy._

"How-"

"Let's just say that… well, someone I know might have overheard a conversation that he shouldn't-"

Suddenly the eerie breeze of wind he had felt earlier in the dungeons made sense. "Potter was stalking me with that invisibility cloak of his, wasn't he?" _Stupid, perfect Potter. 'Oh, look at me with the Seeker position I earned. Oh, I'm so noble, and everybody loves me._

Granger ignored the comment, like she was apt to, and continued, "Said friend thought it was a trick. He doesn't trust you."

"And you do?"

"Absolutely not," said Granger. She made a face, then continued, "I told him I would leave it alone, and I almost did… But then I decided that maybe I shouldn't."

 _Like usual,_ "Why?"

Granger peered at him, and he felt very much like he were an animal being studied by a zoologist. "My friend will sulk and pout for a few days, or even weeks when he finds I lied and gave you that book. But he'll come around eventually. And I figure a little bit of drama is worth it if it means potentially bridging the gap between our worlds. After all, we're more alike than we are different."

With that final word, Granger trotted off.

"Wait," said Draco before Granger had completely disappeared.

"What is it?" said Granger, suspicion laced in every syllable.

It took almost as much effort as Draco's outburst from earlier, but this time it felt less heated, "Thank you,"

Granger's look of complete shock was worth the effort and made him want to laugh at her. She blinked owlishly, then said slowly, "You're welcome..." She looked like she wanted to say more, but simply shook her head and continued on her path.

Draco followed her until he had to turn to head back towards the Hospital Wing. When he reached the double doors he wrung the book Granger had given him nervously. He shouldn't have yelled at Astoria; he knew this. _Why did I yell at her? I could have just talked... I know I was tense. But why was I so tense?_

Moody.

His father.

It was like every single stressor had come together in one stupid little package, and had been neatly wrapped with a bow and fucked him over in the face.

Draco stepped through the doors. Madame Pomfrey started to wave him out, but Astoria said, "Just one moment? I think he just wants to say goodnight."

The two of them received a stern frown from the witch, but Madame Pomfrey relented. She stood guard however as Draco approached Astoria.

"I'm sorry," said Draco, "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"I'm sorry too," said Astoria, "I shouldn't have assumed... and I know your father is a bit of a touchy subject."

"Yeah," Draco shifted nervously, "I think I got a bit... tense,"

"That's an understatement," said Astoria. Behind them, Madame Pomfrey coughed, signaling her desire for them to wrap up their conversation.

"It's time for bed," She said, "Ms. Greengrass needs her rest."

"Of course," said Draco. He bent down to kiss her head. It smelled like Orange Blossoms. "Goodnight 'Stori,"

"Careful with that," laughed Astoria, "I swear to Merlin, I'll call you Dray-Dray.

"Goodnight, Astoria," said Draco as he walked out the Hospital Wing. There was a skip in his step that hadn't been present before. For the first time since his father had burned Daphne's book, he felt like Lucius Malfoy couldn't hurt him.


	10. AKA Xena, Warrior Princess

_"Habeo Speculum!" cried Lavender. She flicked her wand at the piece of paper in front of her and tried her best to imagine it transforming into a mirror. To her complete dismay, it did nothing. She groaned and leaned back in her bed._ What am I doing wrong? It's the end of our Second Year, and I can't even get a simple mirror spell right.

_From outside the Second Year Girl's Dorm Room, Lavender could hear what sounded like Ginny and Hermione arguing. A few moments later, the voices quieted. Then, Hermione entered the dorm looking distressed. Lavender couldn't blame her. She had just spent nearly three months in a petrified state due to a monster that had run amok in the school. Lavender wasn't sure what it was, but she was fairly certain Ginny had something to do with it- the monster had taken the girl to the Chamber of Secrets for some sort of Dark ritual instead of petrifying or killing her. According to Parvati, who had heard from Pansy, weird Dark rituals of that sort needed the sacrifice to have some sort of connection with the caster._

_Judging by the devastated expression Ginny held as she watched Hermione walk away and slam the door, Lavender felt she was right._

_"You okay?" said Lavender as Hermione changed into her pajamas rather dismally._

_"Yes," said Hermione, "Or, I will be. I'm just stressed because I missed so much school. I've never been behind on homework before, and now… Justin Finch-Fletchley is going to attend summer classes at the ministry, and they're offering the same to the rest of us."_

"Are you going to go?"

_I don't know..." answered Hermione quietly, "I've never gone to summer school. I've never even been behind on homework. I just feel like everything is spinning out of control, and I don't have enough time..." Once she had changed, she sniffed loudly and wiped her face before flopping on her bed in a heap. Where once it might have been home to several large books, or a stack of parchment, now it was barren due to the time Hermione had been absent._

_"Everything alright with you and Ginny?" said Lavender without thinking, then, "If- if that's something you want to talk about, that is."_

_Hermione didn't answer for several moments, "Yes, it'll be alright. It's just going to take some time, I suppose… I just- Have you ever been angry, or scared of someone for something that isn't their fault?"_

Jesus Christ… What happened when Ginny was taken to the Chamber of Secrets? _Thoughts raced through Lavender's head. She thought she might ask Parvati about it later, but the question Hermione asked stuck in her head. It felt far too personal to be spoken about to others as part of idle gossip._

_Scabbers._

_Lavender hated the seemingly innocent rat with every fiber of her soul. Something about him felt unnatural and almost deceitful._

_"I understand that feeling… Scabbers, he freaks me out. It makes me kind of hate being around Ron," said Lavender after a moment. Hermione stayed on her bed unmoving for several moments, and eventually Lavender went back to flicking her wand at her paper, trying to turn it into a mirror. "Habeo Speculum!"_

_Nothing._

_Lavender crumpled up the paper and threw it away in frustration._

_"What are you doing?" said Hermione, sitting up. Her miserable looking face turned quizzical._

_"Trying to turn a mirror to paper; there was an article in Witch Weekly about it," said Lavender, "It isn't working."_

_Hermione jumped off her bed and started rummaging around in her trunk. She pulled out a long cylindrical cardboard box and pulled a thin sheet of metal from it. "Try this. It's a roll of tin foil. I brought it home with me, along with some batteries when I was visiting my parents at Christmas. I thought Mr. Weasley might kick out of a trick you could do with them. I meant to have Ron give it to him at Easter, but..." She gave a small smile, then continued, "It's a metal, and it's shiny. Mirrors are made from silver and glass, which is closer chemically to other silicates. You might find it easier to practice with rocks various metals first."_

_Lavender took the sheet of tin, then pictured it transforming into a beautiful gilded mirror, "Habeo Speculum!"_

_It stiffened, and the tin took on a glass surface. It was nowhere near what she pictured in her mind, and didn't have the shine of silver, but there was no doubt it was a mirror._

_"It worked!" Lavender bounced from her bed to hug Hermione who was still standing next to her. She heard Hermione give a small laugh, and felt her body shake as it blossomed into full-on cackling._

_"I'm glad," said Hermione, still laughing as Lavender danced in victory._

_"Tell me more about these silicates," said Lavender, settling back down onto the bed._

_Hermione beamed. She looked like a necromancer in a natural history museum, "Well, first things first, you need to know about the periodic table..."_

**Chapter Ten: In Which Lavender gets a Haircut**

_-Lavender_

_This news is very concerning. Thank you for letting us know. Though we don't work in the Ministry, the Patils are well connected. As I'm writing this, your father has flooed to their house to see if they know anyone who might be able to help. I will write to you about any updates._

_As for the situation with Hermione, well, Sweetheart the most you can do is try and talk things out with her and apologize. If that doesn't work, then just be patient. Time has a way of working things out._

_-Mum_

The morning air felt cold and brisk in the owlery as Lavender finished reading the reply from her mother. _Thanks, Mum,_ she thought dryly. _Be patient. Wonderful advice. Really quite helpful._ Perhaps it wasn't fair to her mother to scorn her words so easily, but Lavender wasn't in the mood to be patient with people. It had been scarcely two days since she had been unknowingly entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and Lavender Brown was no more skilled in defensive magic, or knowledgable in dragons than she had been on Halloween.

About the only thing that had felt useful was that dragons were vain and also territorial, and not very intelligent. They couldn't even recognize their reflection.

 _Just keep at it_ , Lavender told herself. She folded the parchment, catching a faint scent of her mother's perfume as she did so. Absentmindedly she placed the letter in her breast pocket to keep it close. As unhelpful as it was, it was calming having something her mother sent close to her. She took a deep breath and ran her fingers through snarled hair, trying to tame it before she had to make an entrance with living people.

It seemed lately that time was a precious commodity. Lavender had been up all night trying to learn _Protego_ , a shield charm she hoped might save her from dragonfire. Because of this, she had woken up late and hadn't had time to style her hair after showering, leaving her hair to air dry in damp, and slightly limp clumps before racing to the owlery before breakfast.

She supposed she could have waited and let the owl come to her, but that led the risk of feathers getting into her food.

Down the owlery stairs came a shrill whistle that pierced the chilly air.

"Come on, Lavender!" It was Pansy Parkinson, sending her summons in a sing-song tone.

Lavender, safe in the knowledge that Pansy couldn't see her, scowled. This would be the third fitting in two days. It would have been the fourth, except for a missed opportunity during lunch after Chamrs as Lavender was summoned to appear in an interview with Rita Skeeter- a bug-eyed reporter who dressed in shocking green silks who had been tasked by the Daily Prophet with covering the tournament.

 _It's awful, but at least Pansy isn't Rita Skeeter,_ Lavender thought to herself as she descended the stairs. On Monday, halfway through Charms, Lavender was taken to an empty classroom where their wands were examined. Right before the examination, Lavender was whisked away by Rita Skeeter into a cramped broom cupboard and asked quite possibly every invasive question one could think of.

Lavender once thought that an interview for a magazine would be glamorous. It was, for the most part, an attractive affair. The attention felt seductive, and she thoroughly enjoyed having her photo taken over and over again. But there was a part of the event that felt claustrophobic, and demeaning when Rita Skeeter started to frame her story as being a helpless little girl.

 _But you are a helpless little girl,_ whispered a voice in the back of her head. It wasn't Smintheus. He was gone for now. This one felt like the same voice that crept up whenever Scabbers used to show his ugly voice.

She shook her head as she came into view of Pansy, attempting to clear her head of those intrusive voices and thoughts. Call her paranoid, but she had the nagging suspicion that Pansy could read minds.

"So Lavvy, how's Ronnie doing?" said Pansy, hooking a small arm though Lavender's elbow. She was alone. Parvati had homework that needed desperate attention.

"Ron," corrected Lavender. Ron had followed Lavender to her meeting with Pansy and looked noticeably annoyed when Pansy started calling him by the nickname. Lavender couldn't blame him. The nickname felt a bit emasculating. _I should probably stop calling him Won-Won, too. But he never looks annoyed when I call him it. Why would it be different? Does he just not tell me that it bothers him?_ "And he's doing well. How is Malfoy?"

"Oh, yes," said Pansy, with false sounding sincerity, " _Ron_ … And Draco is doing quite nicely. He seems happier than usual. Though I haven't seen much of him lately."

They soon arrived at the abandoned girls' toilet where Pansy had set up shop. She threw a mock-up that looked like it was made out of scrapped together fabric over Lavender and started examining it, tugging and pinning and pulling in every direction.

"How necessary is this?" said Lavender, trying not to squirm. It was hard, considering Pansy had about twenty different spiders crawling all over her, and pins stuck at her side.

"Very. The better the fit, the better the protection spells. It's fine if the fit is slightly off for most garments, but you're convinced that dragons will be part of the First Task. Dragonfire is powerful, so the fit has to be perfect."

"So if the fit is right, I don't have to worry about the fire," said Lavender, beaming. She felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest. _She believes me about the dragons… But it's strange. Smintheus had said that there was a curse…_

"Er… Pansy?" Lavender began, wondering if there might be an exception to the rule.

"Yesh?" Pansy gave Lavender an inquisitive look while holding a couple of pins in between her lips. She pulled them out, then said, "What is it, honey bear?"

 _Honey bear? Does she think I'm five?_ "Can you keep a secret?"

At those words, a predatory glint in Pansy's eyes sparked, causing Lavender to regret ever uttering them. "Of course, Lavvy!" crooned Pansy, "You can tell _me_ anything. Now, the person you don't want to tell is Theodore Nott. Don't trust him with anything. He'll lie straight to your face, and stick a knife right in your back."

"Er-" Lavender paused, then decided to just rip the proverbial bandaid off, "Well, I've been having visions. Sort of. They're more like dreams. But that's how I know that I'll be facing dragons in the First Task."

"I see," said Pansy, giving her a strange look, "Well… Good to know… Does this have anything to do with when you fainted in the room they took the Champions to?"

"How did-"

"Please, said Pansy incredulously, "You fainted in front of no less than ten people all combined. Did you think it wouldn't get out? I actually overheard Granger talking about it with Potter- though where she heard it I have no- _ho_ idea. That Granger girl is more oblivious to the grapevine than Loony Lovegood."

"You don't believe me, do you?" said Lavender, trying to ignore the remark about Hermione. _Why would she be telling Harry about me fainting? Is she making fun of me? No, she can't be. Hermione isn't like that._

"Well, I don't know if they're visions, per se. You could very well be mad," said Pansy in a detached way, "But I'll put on fireproofing spells regardless. It doesn't mean we can't put on other enchantments, and as dragons aren't the only fire breathing monster you could be facing they're probably a good idea."

A few minutes later, Pansy had gotten the adjustments she needed marked so that she could sew them later.

"Mkay," she said absentmindedly as she placed the newly marked fabric out on top of a giant spread of brown paper on the floor, and took a piece of charcoal from her pocket. Once she finished, Pansy waved Lavender off. "You can go now. I have what I need. I'll come to collect you in a few days."

Sure enough, a few days later on a Saturday morning, Pansy ambushed Parvati and Lavender in the courtyard, holding an unsewn sleeve made of scarlet quilted silk. She slung it around Lavender's arm and began pinning it

"Ouch!"

"Oh, stop being a baby,"

"You stuck me with a pin,"

"It was a tiny little prick,"

"I'm ninety percent positive it's bleeding,"

Shifting the quilted silk sleeve, Pansy clucked her tongue and finished re-marking the hem as the sleeve she had made had been a bit too small.

"The quilting process shortened it," said Pansy, muttering a bit angrily to herself. Her spiders crawled every which way over the sleeve, weaving bits of silk in between the layers of fabric. "I used cotton in the mock-up, but spider silk is so much thinner… It just makes converting everything a pain. I wanted to use silk, oh, but gambesons require so much fabric. And Daddy is already grumbling about how much silk I'm using. I'm glad I made an extra-large seam allowance. Otherwise, we would have been screwed. I'll just have to measure out how much shorter it got, and factor that in with the rest of it."

According to Pansy, the gambeson would require nearly thirty layers of fabric **(*)**. Lavender's eyes nearly bugged out of her skull upon hearing this, but Pansy assured her that she would not notice the weight.

Lavender tentatively moved her arm up and down, flexing her elbow carefully so as not to be pricked by the pins once again. If she put her personal feelings about Pansy aside, Lavender could believe her. Though the beautiful, scarlet fabric was near-weightless (most of the weight seemed to be from the wool lining) the silk felt so dense that it could have been one flat piece of fiber.

"How are you weaving all of this fabric?" said Lavender, a bit awestruck.

Pansy made snort, "Circe, you're adorable. I can see why Parvati likes you."

Parvarti, who up until now had been quiet, joined in with a frustrated, "Pansy…"

"Ugh, whatever," said Pansy, rolling her eyes, "I'm not weaving close to what will very likely be like, sixty yards of spider silk. That would be so- _ho_ much effort. Daddy's sent the fabric to me. We have a factory full of spiders in Nottingham. He's not thrilled at how much fabric I'm using, but I'm using it to garner publicity for the company, so he wants it to be of good quality, and we can't have it falling apart during the First Task, can we?"

Pansy then made a face that made Lavender think of a cobra that was circling a snake charmer, "Plus, Daddy would do anything to make me happy."

Though the words didn't quite add up with Pansy's expression, Lavender ignored it in favor of wanting to see just how bulky the sleeve was. The only problem was that she didn't have a mirror on her.

"Parvati, can I steal a mirror from you?"

"I don't have one," said Parvati, shaking her head, "Oh! But you could transfigure one. Remember that mirror spell?"

"Oh, right!" Lavender grinned and pulled out a piece of parchment, transfiguring it into a sleek, shiny mirror.

The sleeve, though thick, was not at all bulky, and if you ignored the fact that it was pinned together it fit her like a glove.

"Thank you, Pansy," said Lavender, grinning and giving Pansy her hand to shake. Pansy quirked her eyebrows before gingerly shaking her hand back before she glanced behind Lavender and Parvati. Beyond the courtyard, hidden in a door-frame, Lavender caught a glimpse of Hermione glaring at the three of them with unbridled fury.

"Oh, no," said Lavender. She quickly slipped the sleeve off, but by the time it was put away, Hermione had already turned around and started to walk briskly away.

Parvati stood up, "We should follow her,"

"Why?" said Pansy, "It's not like her opinion matters."

"Because she's upset, and she's our friend," said Parvati, pulling Lavender up with her. "You should come too. Maybe we can make peace between all of us."

"Ugh," whined Pansy, her face souring. But she stood up with Lavender and followed Parvati on their quest to track down Hermione.

As Hermione had already disappeared by the time they reached the entryway, the three of them decided to search the castle for her. They eventually found her walking out of the disused girls' bathroom with a rather splotchy looking face.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Parvati's plan would not work. Nevertheless, Parvati approached Hermione with Lavender and Pansy with a hopeful expression, ignoring the icy glares Hermione was sending their way.

"What do you want?" said Hermione, wasting no time.

"Nothing," said Parvati, "We just-"

Hermione gave a scoff, interrupting Parvati, "We? Don't tell me you're friends again with _her_?" She pointed rather rudely at Pansy.

"She's helping me with the First Task!" said Lavender, stepping in between them.

Hermione's eyes instantly widened in recognition, "That's where you went! The day after your name was pulled from the Goblet! You were going to her!"

There were a few tense seconds where Lavender tried to focus on a strange emerald green beetle crawling around on the floor next to them instead of on Hermione. She didn't want her to see the shame and doubt she was beginning to feel. _Did I choose wrong?_ She thought for a moment, then felt her insides twist with a bitter sort of frustration. _I'm just trying to not die. Why can't Hermione see that?_

From behind, she heard Pansy give a haughty snort, "Yes, she did. I guess I'm just more likable,"

Hurt flared in Hermione's eyes as Lavender's heart dropped in horror, but instead of reacting, bushy brown hair flared in a circle as Hermione spun around to leave. Lavender raced after her, ignoring Parvati who had started to argue with Pansy. But when she reached for Hermione she saw a hand reach out to slap her. She hesitated, unsure of whether to dodge it or try and shield her face.

Her hesitation was a mistake. Before she had me to process what her move would be, Hermione's blow landed, striking Lavender across the face, and throwing her to the ground.

Anger flared up again, rising much like the heat spreading across Lavender's face. _Fuck this. If Hermione wants a fight, I'll give her a fight!_ She clawed at Hermione's ankles from the ground, pulling her down to the ground. She felt Hermione pulled at her hair, ripping it at the root as if she were trying to pull Lavender's nails from her ankles by pulling at her head.

"Hermione! Lavender! _Stop!_ " screamed Parvati, running between them as they both continued to brawl on the floor. Pansy, much to her credit, had not gotten involved, choosing to instead watch from the sideline. " _Stupefy!_ "

The red spell hit both of them, stunning them into inaction. Hermione panted and groaned in pain, rubbing at her shins which were covered in red scratch marks. Lavender rubbed her hair weakly, feeling wets spots where Hermione had ripped out small chunks. _Bitch_ , she thought tasting iron in her mouth.

"What the hell is wrong with you two!" Parvati yelled, stamping her foot.

"Yah, what's your problem?" said Pansy, her face drawn into a mask of alarm that felt fake. Lavender was tempted to snap, _"You started it!"_ but Parvati beat her to the punch.

"Shut up, Pansy! Just go away!"

"I'm just saying," Pansy scoffed, crossing her arms and looking annoyed. For a second, Lavender thought she might argue further, but the beetle she had seen earlier suddenly showed again, crawling across Pansy's shoulder. The pixie-like girl made a rather undignified noise, quickly brushing the beetle off of her shoulder and onto the floor, where it landed on it's back next to Lavender, waggling its legs in the air. Pansy then gave a tiny shudder and turned on her heel.

Taking a slight bit of pity on the beetle, Lavender reached over, ignoring the pain in her head as her injured hair flopped forward, and flipped the beetle back on its right side. Once that was done, she stood up along with Hermione and began to dust herself off in the hopes of regaining some of her dignity.

When she was done, Parvati turned once again on Hermione and Lavender. "I'll ask again. What is wrong with you two? You're bickering and fighting, and now you're brawling on the floor like-like _muggles_!"

"Like a muggle? Well, I suppose that's appropriate," hissed Hermione, her eyes flashing with barely checked rage, "Or have you forgotten that I'm muggle-born? Or a _Mudblood_ , like Pansy Parkinson would say? It's funny, I didn't think she'd let you forget something like that."

"I- Hermione, that's not what I meant…" said Parvati, horror enveloping her words.

"Don't worry," snapped Hermione, her voice dripping with acid, "I know what you meant,"

Seconds passed where none of the girls could seem to find words to say. The silence was filled with both Lavender and Hermione both massaging of their wounds, trying to soothe their hurts. _Parvati's right. This is stupid. I should have just talked to her, instead of siding with Pansy._

"Hermione…" said Lavender, breaking the silence.

"Shut up," snarled Hermione, "I don't want to hear it. Just leave me alone." She started to leave, then, "By the way, I was looking for you to tell you that you should stop wasting your time learning defensive spells. You're terrible at them."

"I could get better!" said Lavender defensively.

"Oh, I don't doubt it. As airheaded as you are, you aren't untalented when you put your mind to something," said Hermione. She trained her eyes up and down Lavender, as if examining some annoying creature, and was trying to determine whether or not it was worth her time. "But not in two and a half weeks. You should stick to spells you already know. Avoid any actual fighting."

Lavender made a squawk of protest, but Hermione ignored it as she started to take her leave.

"Oh, and Lavender?" said Hermione with finality, "A word of advice for when you're fighting in the First Task; next time don't hesitate. Whatever it is that you'll be fighting won't be trying to slap you. When you're in the thick of the battle, hesitation gets you killed."

Her words were low and level, sending a chill down Lavender's back. _All those rumors about Harry, Ron, and Hermione… Could they be true? Supposedly they fought a werewolf last year. Hermione did look all beat up, and poor Ron's leg was broken._

With that, Hermione left. Not too long afterward, Parvati too.

After being left alone by Hermione and Parvati, Lavender wandered into the girls' bathroom and shut herself in a stall, trying to control her breathing and the urge to scream and shout. She was shaking now and felt the need to bang a stall door three or four times. _Maybe if I bang this door enough I'll stop being so bloody stupid. What was I thinking? Fighting with Hermione like that? What if we were seen? What if she tells Ron?_ On that final thought, Lavender slammed the stall door hard enough to summon Moaning Myrtle, who laughed at her bloodied and bruised face before flying into the toilet and flooding it.

 _He'll side with Hermione,_ thought Lavender glumly as she moved to the dry side of the bathroom, _She's his best friend. I can deny it all I want, but I'll always be second to her. Just like Ron will always be second to Parvati._

She moaned, sitting on a toilet and cradling her head in her arms. She waited about an hour before making her way to the Hospital Wing.

The Hospital Wing smelled like its usual assortment of medicinal potions and starch. Madame Pomfrey clucked her tongue when Lavender made a feeble attempt at a lie for why her hair was in a mess of clumps and blood.

"I got caught in some brambles," Said Lavender, gingerly feeling her hair.

"These wouldn't be the same brambles that clawed up Miss Granger's ankles, would it?" said Madame Pomfrey suspiciously.

"Er…" Lavender blushed, "Yes. We were picking berries."

"In November. You were picking berries in November?"

"Er…"

Madame Pomfrey gave an exasperated sigh but left Lavender to retrieve a bottle of dittany and Fleamont's Fabulous Fur Flourisher **(**)** "It won't be the same length as the rest of it. It's been torn at the roots, so the potion won't work quite as well. Would you like me to even it out for you?"

Lavender clutched at her hair, trying not to cry, "Yes…" said Lavender in a faint voice, hoping if she spoke softly enough it might somehow undo everything that had happened.

The dittany healed the skin that had torn, allowing Madame Pomfrey to gently comb the still tender flesh before applying the potion. She waited the hour it took for her hair to finish regrowing and healing the skin, then closed her eyes as Madame Pomfrey began cutting her hair with her wand. Each slice grated against her ears and made it harder to resist breaking into tears. It felt like a part of her was being ripped away.

It was silly and vain, but she had been growing her hair out since starting at Hogwarts. Not having to use hair growth potion was a point of pride for her. Besides, overuse of the potion could cause the hair follicles to become thin and brittle.

Madame Pomfrey ended up cutting her hair nearly as short as Pansy's was. When she looked at her new hair in the mirror, she nearly shrieked in horror but managed to just sulk. It wasn't ugly-rather the opposite. Under different circumstances, Lavender might find the bob hairstyle cute. But the idea of looking anything like Pansy seemed like the worst way for the day to end.

The next few weeks passed far too quickly. Lavender was so focused on preparing for the First Task she hardly noticed that neither she, Hemione, nor Parvati was speaking to one another. Hermione preferred to spend her time either in the library or in the Common Room, surrounded by a literal wall of books. Parvati was spending much of her time with Pansy, who Lavender inferred must have somehow won her way back into Parvati's good graces after the brawl by the girls' bathroom.

 _It would have been easy…_ thought Lavender as she went over her strategy once again, fiddling with her far too short hair, _All she'd have to do is bat her eyes, and insist that while her words were ill-chosen, she was just trying to defend their newfound friendship. She might have even thrown in a few good words about Hermione for good measure._ Lavender growled to herself and fiddled with the Adder Stone necklace, trying to not think about the dragon she would have to fight tomorrow. She hadn't taken the necklace off since Seamus gave it to her.

 _I haven't had any weird dreams or visions since, either... Could Smintheus be gone? Could he have left me alone?_ _I wonder if it's the necklace. Dean did say Adder Stones were used for protection._ Yet, the Adder Stone seemed weak protection indeed from something like a dragon or the strange cosmic force that Smintheus seemed to be.

The Saturday before the First Task, Lavender had her date with Ron at Madame Puddiffoots. It seemed that Hermione never told him about the fight. Something that in spite of the bitterness Lavender felt towards the girl, Lavender also felt eternally grateful for. The action also seemed like a silent surrender from her. Hermione chose to let Ron go, instead of sabotaging their relationship like she could have.

The date had started and ended as beautifully as Lavender could have hoped. Ron brought her an odd purple flower she thought he stole from the castle greenhouses. They drank tea and joked. Ron ended the date by joining with Harry and Hermione were accompanied by a suspicious-looking, and rather shaggy large, black dog.

All too quickly came the night before the First Task.

That night Lavender barely slept, so anxious was she for the First Task. She passed the hours lying awake by lying down, throwing a ball in the air, and casting _Protego_ as it fell. Despite what Hermione said, or perhaps because of what she said, Lavender felt the need to continue to practice the spell. _She's wrong. I can do get good enough at this in time._

At breakfast, Pansy ambushed her with the gambeson bundled in her arms. Parvati even started talking to her again, something that calmed Lavender more than she could say. The two of them chatted to the Champions tent where they were separated for a moment as Bagman gathered the rest of the Champions and explained what they would be facing.

Dragons.

Surprise.

They passed around a bag, drawing out miniature versions of the horrendous beasts that they were supposed to be facing. _Yes, because of course, they had to make a miniature version,_ Lavender thought sardonically. When she reached into the bag, she felt small, needle-like teeth bite her, making her flinch as she pulled out a vicious, six-inch dragon that was covered in spikes.

"Oooh," said Bagman with far too much excitement, "Hungarian Horntail!"

"Is that bad?" said Lavender, examining the faces of the other contestants. They were looking at her as if they knew they'd be attending her funeral. "That's bad, isn't it?"

Bagman grinned widely, showing far too many teeth. Crouch merely kept moving the bag to Krum, who drew the Chinese Fireball; Cedric, who drew the Swedish Short-Snout; and finally Fleur, who drew the Welsh Green.

The rules were explained once more. There was a Golden Egg that they had to collect while avoiding Death by Dragon. Krum was chosen to go first as he was the oldest of the four. Bagman and Crouch left with him to judge the performance. Lavender and the other champions were left in the tent alone. She could hear the roaring and cheering in the stands and wondered briefly if her parents were out there.

A few moments after Krum began his battle, Pansy and Parvati snuck into the tent.

"Oh, thank god you're back. Pansy, why did you attach these sleeves with strings?" said Lavender as Parvati hugged her before helping her into the light, but somewhat bulky gambeson, tying the sleeves into place. There was a new addition of embroidered lions at the collar.

"Because I could use the fastenings to hold more spells," said Pansy, who smirked and sat Lavender down in a chair. She pointed to the embroidered lions against Lavender's throat and the metal fastenings that were attached to the collar. "Those hold all the enchantments protecting against fire."

A horn then blared, and a young Beauxbatons student came in to grab Fleur, who turned a bit green. She left, looking like she was walking through wet cement.

Lavender then gave a short gasp when Pansy wrenched her head back, tightly braiding the short strands of hair in front of her face, "Pansy, I can do my own hair," she insisted.

"No, you can't."

"Yes, I can."

"Too bad. People are going to be taking pictures of you in that gambeson, and Daddy needs a good article in the Daily Prophet so that he can make back the money he put into all that silk. I'd rather Witch Weekly, but I haven't been able to track down any of their reporters." said Pansy, picking up a dull, pale needle that was about as long as her thumb, and as wide as a thin twig, then threading it with a scarlet ribbon. "Besides, do you know how to sew braids to your head?"

"No?" said Lavender with not a small amount of worry creeping into her voice. Pansy wasn't exactly gentle with pins and needles.

"Oh my god, don't be a baby," said Pansy, pulling the needle in and out of her hair, down the braids and creating a criss-cross pattern of neat rows of scarlet ribbon. "It's a yarn needle. It's made of bone, and is in no way shape or form sharp. Seriously, this thing is as dull as Daddy at a party."

At Lavender's inquisitive look, she added, "He's got Ravenclaw Syndrome. He gets really into like, one subject and only talks about that one subject. In his case, it's politics. And I'm not talking about the fun politics that my Grandpa used to go on and on about before he died; you know- who's fucking who, and the scandal of the day. I'm talking about bureaucratic nightmares as dry as the Sahara. The guy loves it for some reason. Padma would get along wonderfully with him." Pansy said all of this very fast and in one breath

Parvati giggled, "If I remember correctly, they did."

"Oh right!" said Pansy, beaming and for a second Lavender could have believed it was genuine. _Perhaps it is…_ "Oh, Circe… Remember at my fifth birthday party and Padma decided she couldn't stand playing tea party with us and my Aunt Marigold-" Suddenly, her beaming grin fell and darkened.

"Pansy?" said Parvati tentatively, reaching out a hand, but Pansy brushed it away, her dark expression disappearing with unnatural haste as she beamed once more. There was suddenly a thundering roar that shook the tent.

"I'm fine, Parvati!" Pansy trilled, looking to the tent flaps as she tied off the ribbon. A couple of minutes later another horn blared, and a first-year Hufflepuff entered the tent to collect Cedric. "Oh, Lavender. Your boyfriend is here. We'll just leave you."

With that, Pansy left. Parvati hugged Lavender once more, kissing her on the cheek. "Good luck," she whispered as Lavender hugged her back, not wanting to let go. _Maybe if I stay like this, the dragon won't get me. They wouldn't send Parvati into the pit as well. She's not a champion._ But eventually, they had to separate. Parvati followed Pansy out of the tent, leaving Lavender with a worried looking Ron Weasley.

"Hey," said Ron, "You seem to be getting friendly with Pansy,"

Lavender shrugged, "She's decent enough when she's trying to be,"

"Come one, Lav. You're even starting to look like her."

"That's not my fault," said Lavender, instinctively grabbing for long hair that was no longer there.

Ron gave her a searching look. _Am I wrong? Does he know about the fight?_ After a moment, Ron seemed to be satisfied. He hugged her, letting Lavender melt and lean into him. She could feel scratchy bits of hair where Ron was starting to grow a beard on her cheek, and smell what might have been cologne. It smelled like cedar and sandalwood.

A horn blared, signaling the end of Cedric's fight.

"No…" whispered Lavender, clutching Ron tighter as she felt panic spreading throughout her person. "No, no, no, no, no, no… Ron, I can't do this. I just know I'll come in dead last, or-or die. I can't-"

"Yes, you can," said Ron with such assurance that Lavender almost believed him. But a part of her still doubted.

"But-"

"Look at me, Lavender. You can do this. And honestly, all you have to do is beat Fleur to not come in dead last. She nearly got her leg ripped off by her dragon." Ron grabbed her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes, "When I was battling McGonagall's chess game of death, I didn't have room for doubt. You don't have room for doubt either."

"Chess game of death-?"

"Don't worry about it. Just accept that it happened." Ron let go of her shoulder as Dennis Creeey came in to collect her, "Lavender, you can do this."

Her heart pounded against her chest as if it were trying to hammer it's way out. She took a shaky breath and kissed Ron like it was the last kiss of her life. It may very well have been.

Ron smothered her words with a kiss. Then he gave a dopey grin before saying. "Go. You'll be like Xena, Warrior Princess."

"Warrior Princess?" Lavender laughed, suddenly feeling much better.

"Yes, and I know I'm right because Dean Thomas gave me these weird comics to read. She's a warrior princess who dresses up in a leather swimsuit thing."

Though she had no idea what Ron was talking about, Lavender gave yet another laugh at the ridiculousness of the image before letting Dennis lead her out of the tent, and past the horde of reporters who started to snap photos with dizzying flashes. The lights blinded her and almost made her miss seeing Pansy talking to a bored-looking Rita Skeeter. From the sideline, Hermione watched Pansy with a hard, worried frown.

Dennis continued to pull her forward to the pit. It looked exactly like the pit from her vision, only now she knew that it was the Quidditch pitch, transfigured into a makeshift dragon pit. She stood nervously in the center, feeling as if she were about to puke.

There was a signal, and the Horntail was released reigning fire that was the color of pumpkins and smelling of sulfur. In an instant, Lavender ducked for cover behind a large boulder.

_Breathe in… Breathe out…_

_Don't doubt, don't hesitate. Just do. You know this. What are these rocks made from?_ Lavender studied it for a quick moment. It appeared granitic, with bits of visible quartz. _Okay. Granite. What's granite made of? Come on, Lavender. You need this spell to be perfect. It's… it's mostly silica, I think. Silica. Now, most glass is primarily silica, too. And silver is, well silver. Silver aside, it's all nearly the same thing. Just picture the rock becoming transparent and forming the glass and silver._ Lavender yelled, "Habeo Speculum!" In an instant, the boulder transfigured into a large mirror, the back of which held an eerie resemblance to the glass wall Lavender had seen in her vision.

Not wasting time in dwelling on it, Lavender gave a silent prayer that the Horntail would be distracted by its reflection long enough for Lavender to race for the mountain of eggs with her prize at the top. The Golden Egg.

She had climbed up half the pile of eggs, giving silent thanks that for her small frame as she wasn't heavy enough to break them when she felt it.

THUMP. THUMP.

_Oh dear god no._

_It's exactly like my vision._ The thought filled Lavender with horror, but she pushed it aside, focusing only on grabbing the egg. _If I grab it, they'll stop the fight. I won't have to worry about the dragon._

Dodging a mouth twice her size, filled with smelly, slimy, and razor-sharp teeth that smashed its eggs in an attempt to eat her, Lavender leaped up and grabbed the Golden Egg in her arms, plummeting down the mountain of eggs, into the rocky ground below.

The gambeson protected most of her body from the fall, absorbing much of the shock and negating what would have been bleeding gashes into bruises. Her head, however, was not so lucky. It slammed into a rock, and Lavender could feel something wet seeping out of the back of her head as she lay stunned on the ground. The impact hit her so hard that she felt the pain into the tips of her fingers as she clutched the Golden Egg like a lifeline. _I need it. So long as I have it, they'll stop the fight in time to get me away from here._ The world went black for a moment, and she awoke meer seconds later to what she thought was the wail of a veela, until common sense told her that it was more likely to be a concussion.

Her vision swam, and the bright sunlight from the unseasonably warm November afternoon hurt her eyes. All of a sudden, a shadow loomed overhead. The break from the bright lights gave Lavender just enough time to process that the shadow was from the Hungarian Horntail, swooping overhead so that it might eat her.

 _Don't hesitate_. Hermione's voice echoed in her head.

Fight or flight.

 _I can't run away. I can barely move._ As the Horntail opened a gargantuan mouth, she chose to fight. Through the roar of the Horntail and the heat of its breath that smelled of sulfur, she could hear the sound of shouting from above her. She wondered if it was Bagman and Crouch. Or maybe Dumbledore.

Summoning all the strength she didn't know she had, Lavender lifted her wand with one arm, while covering her face with the other and curling into a ball, leaving the back of her head exposed to the dragon.

" _Protego!_ " cried Lavender, praying to whatever god was listening that the spell worked.

It did. For one glorious moment, the blue shield she summoned caused the dragonfire to circle Lavender, leaving only the warm air to burst past her. But then the heat of the flames overpowered the weak shield.

It broke.

Flames surrounded Lavender, burning any skin not protected by the gambeson. She screamed as she felt her skin melt. Her hands, the back of her head, the bottom half of her legs; everything was being seared from the heat of the Horntail's attack. Mind-numbing shoots of the most intense pain she'd ever felt before to race up and down her body and into her mind.

Then, as quickly as the attack began it stopped.

She didn't hear the Horntails handlers race into the pit. She was screaming too loud.

A shadow fell over her and a green-robed medi-wizard loomed over, muttering and waving his wand back and forth.

Slowly, the burning pain subsided, and the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) Historical fashion fact of the day, 14th-15th century gambesons would have typically had between 10-30 layers of fabric. These layers would have been quilted together, and would have been made from either linen, wool, or silk (if you could afford that much silk, that is.)
> 
> (**) I had waaay too much fun coming up with that name. Giggled way harder than it deserves.


	11. AKA The Lion and the Mouse

**Chapter Eleven: In Which There is a Rat in some Fog**

Sunlight filtered through the teashop in iridescent beams, landing on Ron's hair and turning it to fire. His hand touched hers, and for a moment all the stress of the past three weeks seemed to melt away, like ice to water.

_He's talking about something. What was it?_

_Oh yes, quidditch. I think it's something about the Chudley_ Cannons, Lavender thought.

In just a few hours, they would leave Hogsmeade. In just a few hours, they would return to Hogwarts.

A waitress walked by. Her shoes click-clacked on the stone floor, ringing out like claws scraping stone. They made Lavender shiver. When she passed, a newspaper slapped on the table. Lavender's face was plastered on it like a summons.

**Discord in Gryffindor House!**

**-Written by Rita Skeeter**

The article was one that Lavender had read several times over; phrases like _Villainous Hermione Granger_ , and _Pansy Parkinson- a wicked gossip of just fourteen_ , and _defenseless girl burnt to a crisp while the crowd watches_ , stuck out at her. But something about the article didn't look right.

It was written on the 25th of November. The day after the First Task.

Her date with Ron had already happened. Lavender pushed her thumb through her palm, and the realization that this was a dream washed over her, numbing the warmth and almost dimming the sunlight.

Only too soon, Lavender would be awake.

 _I can enjoy it a while longer_ , thought Lavender. She straightened herself and continued to drift off in Ron's eyes. They lit up like beacons when he talked about the physics of a Wronski Feint, and flapped his arms around while miming broomsticks with his hands.

**_COME TO ME_ **

What now? Lavender made a face, glancing around for any sign of Smintheus. Two weeks had passed since-

In any case, Smintheus was back. His whispers constantly licking her ears like the tongue of a snake. Lavender was tired of it.

"What do you want?" said Lavender, not expecting an answer. He never did.

**_COME FIND ME_ **

Well, that was new.

With a groan, Lavender looked around once again. But to her dismay, there was nothing new to be found in the teashop. Then, from the window, she heard a thump.

Sorrel was on the outside window ledge.

There was a familiar lurch in Lavender's stomach when she saw the rat. It seemed fairly ridiculous. She fought a Horntail and lived- why should a rat _still_ make her nervous? And a rat in a dream, at that.

Still, curiosity got the better of her and she decided to stand up and follow it. Dream Ron didn't seem to notice.

Her hand, the skin old and familiar, opened the door of the tea shop and the world of Hogsmeade fell away, rebuilding itself in the blink of an eye. The new world looked like a rocky sunlit beach, with palms waving in the sand, and blue waves crashed against the shore. White marble stone glittered ahead with Sorrel sitting atop it as if she were waiting for Lavender to start climbing.

**_FOLLOW MY SERVANT_ **

She touched the stone nervously, expecting the warm rock to bite her.

When it didn't Lavender started to climb up onto the shoreline. Suddenly it grew colder, and a heavy mist started to rise from the ground, surrounding the rat in tendrils of white vapors.

"Who are you?" said Lavender. The fog crawled around her. She could barely see her hand, much less her surroundings.

**_tHE LiON aND THe MoUSE- oR rAt, I sUpposE… coME FiND Me- wHY WoN't YOu?_ **

With more of a whimper than a bang, the fog fell as quickly as it came. Smintheus's voice filtered in and out like a warbling alarm. Now, she stood in what looked like an old, musty, abandoned church, with a graveyard lurking in the distance and visible through a partially boarded up window. Outside, the night sky hung dark- it missed a moon and was lit only by the stars.

She could see herself lying on the floor, covered in blood and grime. Her scarlet gambeson likely stained forever. Above her, Malfoy and Harry were kneeling and speaking fast in what sounded like tongues with sweat dripping down their faces. Lying in a heap behind her head was a man she didn't recognize, a bloody knife on the floor next to an outstretched hand.

 _So that's how I die…_ Lavender felt a hollow sort of pit settle in her stomach as she watched Malfoy and Harry continue to talk in tongues, waiting for the inevitable fight to start between them. It never came. Instead, Malfoy felt at her bloody neck, likely checking for a pulse After a minute, he withdrew it nervously and sit back. Harry reached over and cupped his cheek in an oddly comforting way.

Before she could process what just happened the room lit up in bright white light, and Lavender awoke.

Fish scales covered her hands. They covered her shins, her skees, her feet, her neck, and her head, too. They provided pitifully minimal protection from the aching cold of her hospital room at St Mungo's.

The nurse said it was warm- too warm in fact. This was evidenced by shiny sweat that dripped at her brow.

Still, Lavender didn't -couldn't- believe her.

From the front of her room, Healer Jacobson walked in. His shoes looked muggle, as well as his shirt. Lavender barely listened as he checked the fish skin, inspecting the regenerative potion underneath it. He said it was to aid the reepithelialization of the skin. Supposedly, combined with the potion, there would be minimal scarring. Some sort of new, experimental burn treatment.

It seemed pointless to Lavender. Soon, she would be dead. That much was obvious.

 _The Lion and the Mouse… It sounds like something out of Aesop's Fables. What was that one? A lion spared a mouse's life, and the mouse saved him from hunters?_ **(*)** It had been years since Lavender read those tales. She supposed she could ask a nurse for a copy- St Mungo's had a library to keep patients entertained, but Lavender didn't see the point. If the vision was anything to go by, she would die. She thought she could avoid her fate to the dragon, but even after doing everything she was supposed to do, after doing everything right, she still managed to end up -

Not wanting to dwell on those thoughts, Lavender decided to stare at the prize she won in her fight against the Horntail. The Golden Egg. It laughed at her from her bedside table, it's surface gleaming gold, and frustratingly unburnt. When she opened it after waking up, it screamed at her with a shriek that summoned nearly ten nurses.

"Well, everything looks good. What do you say we get these off of you?"

Lavender blinked in response. "Er…"

"Your skin is done regrowing," said Healer Jacobson, his tone bright and optimistic. Once, Lavender might have enjoyed it. Now, she didn't share his enthusiasm. She was just cold. "Are you ready to get these scales off?"

Lavender said nothing.

Healer Jacobson sat next to her, patiently waiting for her go-ahead. When she finally nodded, he tapped his wand against the fish skin, and like bark peeling off a birch tree they peeled away, revealing fresh new bone-white skin underneath that stood out against the old peach-toned skin like a beacon.

The air felt freezing against it.

She clenched her hands. The new skin felt alien to her. Two weeks ago, her fingers had been charred twigs, barely able to be moved. Now, they were fresh and new. But it made her wonder how much of the flesh was truly 'her'. Maybe now, she was part fish.

"Does this mean I can go back to school, now?" said Lavender. She wanted to get out of the hospital. She wanted Parvati. She wanted Ron. Even Hermione, too. For the last two weeks, all she had from them were letters of well wishes. _Well, not from Hermione. Hell, even Pansy sent me a letter._

"As soon as your parents get here," said Healer Jacobson, "Though isn't your Christmas Break about to start?"

"I have a ball I need to attend," Lavender sulked. Though the idea of a ball sounded quite wonderful right now, she could only feel anxious about the idea of donning her purple tulle dress. Everyone- _everyone_ \- would see the burns yet again. _They'll see them anyways. A funny little irony about the gambeson- it covers about the same amount of skin as your Hogwarts robes. All your healthy skin will be warm, while the skin you need protected will be left to the elements._

"Ah," said Healer Jacobson with a wry grin, "Very well. Would you like to see your reflection?"

"No,"

She hadn't looked in a mirror since-

But that wasn't something she wanted to think about.

Within the hour, her parents arrived. By lunch, Lavender was home. Her father was playing a soft tune on his vinyls- this one was a limited edition that some mermish band released, designed specifically to play underwater. On a bookshelf next to the tank of water, there was a bronze pot of silvery fluid with a marigold flower floating atop it. Lavender settled on a couch, bundled in a blanket and not sure if she wanted to sleep or just close her eyes and sulk.

She supposed it didn't matter. Though it was noon, the sun would blink away in just a few hours. With it, any warmth the day brought.

"Lavender, sweeheart," said Heather, poking her head into the living room, her smile wide and showing far too many teeth, "Why not we bake some cookies? You could take them to your friends when you go back to school tomorrow."

Lavender stared back at her, then wordlessly followed her to the kitchen. It smelled like allspice and nutmeg, with a hint of cinnamon.

"Dad is in his shop," said Heather while she started mixing ingredients. Lavender did her best to measure, but her hands still felt alien to her, and they shook while pouring molasses. "He's been in there a lot, the past few weeks."

Lavender said nothing. There didn't seem to be anything to add to the statement. She supposed she should care and want to know why her dad was hiding in his shop, but nothing seemed to trump her need to figure out how to open the Golden Egg without it screaming at her, or why Smintheus would give her cryptic messages about tales as old as Ancient Greece.

 _But what's the point of finding out? I'm just going to die anyways. All of my visions have come true. There's no getting around them, so what's the point in fighting it? Maybe I should just get it over with,_ Lavender gave up on measuring and decided to sit at the table with her head resting in her arms. _Though I suppose I'd somehow miraculously survive. The fates can't have me messing up the timeline by dying_ too _soon._

Heather place a bowl of cookie dough, along with another bowl filled with sugar on the table in front of her, along with a baking sheet covered in parchment paper. "Sweetheart, I know it's hard, but Healer Jacobson told me you need to use your hands."

"Fine,"

Clumsily, she rolled the spiced dough into balls before rolling them in sugar and placing them in rows on the cookie sheet. They were messy and uneven lumps, compared to her mother's neat balls. She felt like she was a toddler again.

"I had a wonderful conversation with your friend at school. It was after, well- it was while they were patching you up. She was so nice," said Heather cheerfully, "Did you know you're related to her?"

"Parvati?"

"Hmm?" Heather looked confused, then said, "Oh, no! Pansy Parkinson. She said you were friends now?"

"We are?" said Lavender, "Oh, I guess we are," Pansy's gambeson saved her life. Were it not for the coat's now useless protective enchantments, Lavender would be barbecue. _That and your shield charm. Can't wait to rub it in Hermione's face._

Somehow, the thought of getting to say _'I told you so,'_ to Hermione was enough to motivate Lavender to pick up the cookie tray and open the hot oven.

_-Pain wracked every nerve in her body as Lavender drifted in and out of consciousness. Something smelled like her mother's pork roast. She could see Dumbledore looking at her, his face hard and worried as healers in green robes bent over her._

_"Shit, she's waking up. I can't give her any more potion, it'll kill her. We need to get her back to the castle!"_

_Something lifted her from the ground. Her hands and legs moved with the force, tearing flesh that crackled and something in her vision went white.-_

The cookie sheet slipped from Lavender's hands. Heather caught it, her hands brushing Lavender's, and causing her to flinch away as hot air blew from the oven's open door, and Heather's finger's grappled her own.

"I'm… I'm going to go to bed," said Lavender, retreating as fast as possible from the kitchen.

When she got into her room, she was met with the sight of her face in an old sterling silver mirror that once belonged to her grandmother, but now hung on her wall. There was a peach-colored diagonal line across her face that was about the size and shape of her gambeson's sleeve, and her hair was in bristly clumps over her head. She had to stare for a moment. It was the first time she had seen her reflection since-

With any luck, it would be the last time, too. At least until her hair was regrown.

Lavender hastily threw a sheet over the mirror and ran into the hallway bathroom to grab her hair potions. She blatantly ignored the bathroom mirror before turning on the shower, but immediately turned it off when the shock of the combined water pressure and heat caused her to yelp.

"Lav?" Heather said suddenly from downstairs, "Everything alright?"

Wanting to growl from the smothering, Lavender gritted her teeth instead, "Yes," said Lavender with a bit of a choked voice.

Showering would just have to wait.

She turned and nearly yelped again when she saw her reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was like staring at a bald, duel-colored baby. _I can't do anything about my skin, but at least I can re-grow my hair._ Quickly, Lavender opened up her tub of Fleamont's Fabulous Fur Flourisher and applied it as best she could.

With any luck, by the next morning, she would be looking a bit more like herself.

The next morning, Lavender did not look like herself.

While her hair had reached chin length when she awoke, it was now brittle, fluffed up in a haze around her head, felt like straw, and snarled at the slightest touch.

"We could always try some mayonnaise," said Heather soothingly when Lavender descended the stairs, dressed in her Hogwarts robes, with her gambeson hidden underneath atop a wool dress to keep out the December chill.

She was tempted to agree with her mother. While it wasn't perfect, deep conditioning would help the straw-like texture. But that would require showering, and that wasn't something Lavender wanted to do at the moment.

Instead, she simply cut it off. While it was a pixie cut, at least now her hair was even, instead of in clumps.

Soon, Lavender was side-along apparating with her parents to the Hogwarts gates where her mother gave her some soft purple gloves.

"Angora wool," said Heather, "they were my mother's. That woman had terrible circulation and a distinct fondness for rabbits."

"Thanks, Mum," said Lavender, hugging her mother goodbye, and kissing her on the cheek. She did the same for David, noticing he almost seemed afraid to hug her too hard.

Professor McGonagall met them at the gates to escort Lavender to the castle, worry clear on her face just like her parents. "Did you want to go straight to class, or do you need to rest at all?"

Rest. It seemed like all she had been doing for the past two weeks was resting. Either in a hospital bed, on a couch, or in her room. Her life seemed to revolve around the closest bed now. It irked her.

"Go to class," said Lavender. She was already up. If she went to bed, it would be that much harder to get up when it was time for class again.

This answer seemed to make McGonagall happy, though she didn't mention it. "Very well, I'll escort you to Potions."

As she walked into class, Lavender felt her previous confidence slipping away. When the door to the classroom opened, she smelled the smoke from the candles and the fires beneath the cauldrons before she saw them.

_-"WHERE IS SHE?"_

_It was Parvati. Though she couldn't see the healers through the haze, and their voices were murky, Parvati's rang out like a crystal clear bell._

_"LET ME SEE HER! LET ME SEE HER! RON, PANSY, LET ME GO! LAVENDER!"-_

She nearly tripped but managed to catch herself in time. There was a loud creak to her right, and despite Snape's glare, Parvati stood up to hug Lavender. Someone started clapping, and soon the whole classroom had erupted in spectacular applause. Upon Pansy's prompting, even the Slytherins gave a few claps.

"That's my girlfriend!" she heard Ron whoop.

Snape stood up at his desk, a scowl appeared on his face.

"Are we quite done?" said Snape. When the rest of the class had fallen silent yet again, he continued, "Ms. Brown, congratulations on your recovery. If you are finished disrupting my classroom, please find a partner and take your seat. We are brewing Wit-Sharpening potions." he paused, "Something the rest of you could potentially use to do a better job at stealing polyjuice potion ingredients."

He directed a pointed look at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all of whom shared a guilty expression.

"Let it be known that I will find out who is pilfering my supplies, and that there will be _dire consequences._ " Snape then sat back down at his desk to continue grading papers.

"Lavender, over here!" Ron waved her down, and Parvati hugged her again before sitting down next to Pansy. Lavender wove through the desks, ignoring Hermione as best as possible. She didn't want to talk to her. She didn't want to look at her.

 _If I had listened to her, I'd be dead. The gambeson would have burnt up in the initial blast if the shield charm hadn't fended off the worst of the fire._ It wasn't a comforting thought, knowing she had prevented her death. After all, she had to wonder once again what the point of it all was as she would be dead by the end of the year.

"How is everything?" whispered Ron as he handed her ginger root. Lavender did her best to cut them, but the knife felt odd in her alien hands that were not her own. Instead, to prevent from cutting her newly grown skin open, she decided to simply use the blade to crush the root like a wedge of garlic, while shrugging in response to Ron's question.

How were things indeed?

"Stupid question, I guess," said Ron in a murmur, "Hey, so weirdly enough, Pansy and Hermione have sort of united in some Rita Skeeter hating force. Like, Pansy joined SPEW-"

"S-P-E-W," came a hiss from behind them.

"Anyways, it's weird,"

Hermione scoffed, "That's only because you can't stand the fact that somebody else agrees that elves should have basic rights, Ronald,"

Oof. Ronald. Hermione only used that name when she was mad.

Lavender glanced at Pansy, who was chatting animatedly with Parvati. _Won't her dad get mad?_

"Look, all I'm saying is that she's a slimy snake, and I don't think you can trust her."

"I am not stupid, Ronald. I know full well that this is all part of some harebrained scheme of hers," said Hermione. Next to her, Harry sat crushing scarab beetles idly.

"Then why-?"

"Because I want to take the opportunity to try and stop muggleborn discrimination in Slytherin." urged Hermione, "Who knows? Maybe she's willing to change. Malfoy was," Hermione through a glance at Malfoy, who was partnered with Blaise Zabini.

Lavender thought of her vision. Next to her, Ron gave a disbelieving snort along with Harry. "Fat chance,"

"Oh? What's your theory?"

"Same as Harry's,"

"Oh, not you too."

"I'm telling you, Hermione. That git is just pulling one over your head. He's working with his dad to bring some sort of horrific monster into the school again. I mean, Lucius Malfoy literally came to the school. Harry saw it on the map." Ron, took the crushed ginger and mixed it into the cauldron, then handed Lavender a bowl of scarab beetles. "Lav, you good with that?"

 _Again?_ Lavender thought while she nodded to Ron.

"Oh, please. Harry, you said yourself that Malfoy didn't know you were listening in on him."

"He didn't but he's probably pulling one over on that Astoria girl too," said Harry quietly, but urgently, "Hermione, I can't see why you don't see it too."

"Because he seemed genuinely grateful when I-"

"All psychopaths seem genuine, Hermione. Just look at Pansy Parkinson."

"You can't just call somebody a psychopath, Ron,"

"I think you can trust Malfoy," said Lavender in a low murmur. Ron gaped at her.

"Lav," Ron whined, "You're my girlfriend. You're supposed to back me up."

"I had a vision," said Lavender, despite knowing it would fall on deaf ears, "I was- well, incapacitated- and Harry, you and Malfoy were there too. Malfoy seemed quite distressed, and you, well… Did this."

Lavender cupped Ron's cheek like she had seen Harry do to Malfoy.

There was a long moment where Harry's face turned from confusion to shock, then to outright disgust.

"Ew. Malfoy is an arsehole. I would rather snog a beehive."

"You're forgetting gaping and prolapsed," said Ron, pulling away from Lavender and making a face.

"Ron, that's disgusting," said Hermione, giving Lavender an odd look. She whispered something to Harry that Lavender couldn't make out.

"If was going to stroke another boy's cheek, it would be Cedric," said Harry, a moment later, "He's cool and good looking, unlike Malfoy. But I also like Cho, so that's not going to happen."

Ron looked up, "What about me Harry? Would you stroke my cheek?"

"Weren't we just doing that last night?" said Harry with a grin, "What with Lavender being gone, and you were just so lonely,"

"Damn right," said Ron, grinning back and wrapping his arm around her, "But I'm sorry to say I won't need your cheek stroking services anymore."

"You're breaking my heart, Ron,"

It was then that, despite the cold air of the dungeons, her bitterness for Hermione, and the anxiety that the flames brought, Lavender had to crack a smile. She giggled, letting the go of all her doubts and worries, and basking in the joy that the laughter brought.

The rest of Potions passed fairly monotonously, save only for Neville's potion overflowing and coating the dungeon floor in thick green ooze. When the bell finally rang, and the class was dismissed, Snape held Lavender back.

"Ms. Brown, a moment if you will," said Snape in a bored tone. Quickly, Lavender bundled up her things and walked to his desk where he was assembling several papers.

"Yes, sir?"

Snape passed Lavender a stack of papers. "Assignments that you missed in your time away. Simply have them to me by the end of Christmas Break if you want credit. Did you have any time to study while in the hospital?"

"Oh- er, I tried,"

"I figured as much," said Snape, "Considering the effects of the potion, I would be surprised if you were conscious for even a quarter of your stay."

"You know the potion they gave me? The one they put underneath the fish skin?" said Lavender, her eyes widening in surprise.

"I would hope so," said Snape, "Considering I brewed it."

"Oh… Thank you," said Lavender. She clenched her hands idly. They still felt alien. Worse still, after being next to the heat of their cauldron fires for so long, the cold, damp air of the dungeons felt overpowering and made her hands and legs feel like lumps of cold flesh that didn't belong to her. _Maybe he knows if… if I'm really such a freak now…_ "Professor- er… could you maybe answer something for me?"

Snape sighed, "What?"

"As you probably know, a large amount of my skin was burnt off,"

"Obviously,"

"Is it… The new skin- am I still me? Or am I some sort of fish hybrid now?"

There was a loud creak as Snape leaned back in his chair for a moment, pondering the question, "Ms. Brown, do you know what DNA is?"

"Sort of," said Lavender, "Hemione's talked about it. And McGonagall went over it when talking about animal transfiguration. It's what makes people, well people, right?"

"Close," Snape leaned back over his desk, his beady black eyes squinting in the dim light, "It's what carries the genetic code for all living organisms, from microscopic bacteria to the largest animals on earth. If you were a fish hybrid, do you know what you would see in your DNA?"

"Fish DNA, maybe?"

"Yes, you would," sneered Snape, "Now, Ms. Brown, knowing this, what do you think we'd see if we somehow were to get a glimpse of your DNA?"

"Would it still be mine?"

"We have a winner," said Snape, his voice dripping with sarcasm. It didn't make Lavender feel better.

"Then why do they not feel like my hands?" said Lavender, her pitch starting to go up, "Everything is either cold, or too hot, and doesn't feel right.

Snape pinched his nose, "I'm not a healer, Ms. Brown. Far from it. I suggest you take your inquiry to Madame Pomfrey."

Lavender's lower lip trembled. She didn't like the idea of going into the Hospital Wing. After her two week stay at St. Mungo's, the hospital was a place she wanted to avoid. _What if Madame Pomfrey doesn't let me leave?_

It was irrational, even absurd, but it didn't stop the idea from invading her mind.

Lavender was about to turn and leave, but then he continued, "Perhaps your skin is just taking some time to get used to its new environment. After all, it's brand new. If you were stuck in a new place, or say position, wouldn't things seem a bit overwhelming?"

Overwhelming… That's the understatement of the year. More like paralyzing and soul-shattering. But Snape's words made sense. Perhaps she just had to give it time.

As she opened the door to leave the dungeons, Snape called out, "One more word of advice; as someone who has fought with a friend, it's always best to make up before it's too late."

Soon it was Saturday. Snow started to fall, and the castle began to erupt in fantastic splendor as it prepared for Christmas. Lavender found herself staying inside when she could. Outside was cold and wet and dreary. Inside, she could stay warm and use her catch up work as an excuse to not talk to people.

At least, only for so long.

"Hey,"

It was Ron, with Parvati accompanying him. He was carrying a large package in his arms.

Lavender glanced at him but raised the potions book she was studying up to attempt to avoid eye contact. "What do you want?"

"You think you could help me with something?" said Ron with a grimace.

"It's an emergency." Parvati added, "Dire emergency."

"What do you need?"

Ron grimaced again and opened the package. Inside was a set of the most hideous dress robes Lavender had ever seen.

"Oh, dear," said Lavender. "Please tell me those are Ginny's. Wait, no, I wouldn't wish that on her."

"Noop,"

Lavender closed her book with a thump, a growing horror blossoming inside of her. "Ron, please tell me that those are not the robes you're wearing to the Yule Ball!"

"It's not my fault that Mum gave me shit robes!"

"I already look like a freak!" said Lavender in a shrill tone, "I can't- No, we need to fix this,"

Ron snatched the package back and gave her a dirty look, "Sorry, I can't afford good robes, Lav. Don't worry, I'll go to someone else." he muttered before storming away.

Instantly, Lavender felt ashamed. "Ron, wait," said Lavender, catching up to him "I'm sorry. I'm just worried and on edge, because everyone is going to be watching us, and Rita Skeeter is probably going to take the opportunity to write another stupid gossip column about it."

"I know." Ron shifted awkwardly, "I wrote Mum about it weeks ago, but she thinks that these should work fine."

The lump of cloth in Ron's arms shifted and revealed frilly, old silk robes that smelled like moth-balls. At one time, they might have been a gorgeous Tyrian purple brocade. Now, they had the color of murky vomit. Suppressing a shudder, Lavender picked them up gingerly. "Let's go find Pansy,"

Ron snatched them away, "Nope. I will go to the Yule Ball in my birthday suit."

"I don't know who else could fix these!" said Lavender hotly, "But fine, I'll ask someone else to the ball."

"Lavender," said Parvati, "Don't be like that."

"No, Parvati," Ron glared at Lavender, "Please elaborate, Lav,"

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" said Lavender, "I would love to go to the ball with you, and normally I wouldn't care. But the _entire wizarding world_ is going to be watching us! There'll probably be reporters, and Rita Skeeter will be lurking about! I can't show up with you wearing _that_ -" Lavender pointed to the robes. She paced about, feeling like everything was crashing down, while Ron glowered darkly. "Parvati, what do you think we should do?"

Parvati shifted nervously and inspected the cloth. "Well, we could probably do some adjustments, but I can't- hmmm…" After a moment, she said, "Lav, do you think you might be able to transfigure them?"

Lavender stopped pacing, then inspected the cloth once more. The silk was old and smelly, but it wasn't in terrible shape. Whoever the previous owner was, they certainly took good care of their clothes. "Maybe… I think it's silk, right? Ugh, but that's not the problem. The cloth is just fine. The color is hideous."

"Can you change it?" said Ron, "The color, that is."

"Maybe…" said Lavender, "I might be able to do some transfiguration, but I would need to know what the dye is made from. And these are so old- it could be anything. Purple, I'd guess. So anything from sea snails, to indigo, to woad, to madder root-"

Suddenly, from the staircase, Lavender heard Hermione pipe up, "I might have an idea,"

Lavender stared. She was tempted to say _"Fuck off, I've got this handled,"_ but one look at Ron's anxious face stopped her. At the Yule Ball, it wouldn't just be her that would be in the spotlight. It would be Ron, too. So, she decided to go the mature route instead. "What do you suggest?"

"Light,"

"Light?"

A brilliant smile erupted across Hermione's face as she gushed, "Yes! We could use an enchantment that would create a multicolored overlay over the robes, and make the fabric underneath appear a different color."

"That could work!" said Parvati excitedly, "Ron, do you mind if we cut a bit of it off to experiment?"

"Knock yourselves out," said Ron, "Anything I could do?"

"Nope," said Hermione as she crossed the room to inspect the robes. Parvati used her wand to slice a couple of small squares off the bottom of the robes, where it could be easily re-hemmed. "How about you take Harry out about the castle? He's moping. I think he's worried about Padfoot being out in this weather."

"Alright,"

Ron quickly ran up to his dorm to fetch Harry. Once they left through the portrait hole, Hermione turned to Lavender and Parvati and said, "He's gone. Let's go find Pansy."

"And why, in God's name, should I help that ginger-haired freak?"

They found Pansy in a small alcove near the dungeons, playing with a few spiders that had set up home there. In the alcove, there was a portrait of a mermaid sitting in the sun and brushing her hair. The mermaid watched them curiously, every so often jumping off her rock to swim in the blue-painted waters of its portrait.

"He's not a freak," said Hermione, puffing out her chest indignantly, "And if you don't want to help, you don't have to-"

"Good, because I don't," said Pansy, "I helped her, and now I have nothing to show for it." Pansy glared at Lavender for a good few seconds, with a scorching look, "Well, except for a very awkward conversation with your mum. But other than that, nothing! Worse than nothing, in fact. Rita Skeeter decided to make me a part of a gossip column! A gossip column! Do you _know_ how hard I worked on that stupid gambeson? My fingers were bleeding by the start of the First Task. _Bleeding!_ "

Parvati's eyes widened, "What? Pansy, you didn't tell me that! I could have gotten you some dittany!"

"Well, they weren't _literally_ bleeding," said Pansy, brushing off Parvati, "I had the good sense to use a thimble- but still! That woman has made an enemy!"

"Would you at least be willing to see if you can tell what was used to dye this?" said Hermione, "The enchantments will stick better-"

"They stick better if you account for the materials used. I know. Ugh… Fine." Pansy frowned, then snatched the small squares of fabric from Parvati. The spiders she had been playing with crawled up her arms, making Lavender suppress another shudder. She could hear Pansy whispering to them excitedly as the spiders crawled over the fabric squares and appeared to be inspecting it. "Hmmm… This is really old."

"I know," said Lavender mournfully.

"No, I mean like, really old. Really, really, really old."

"Is that important?"

Pansy shrugged, "Could be. Some dyes have been made illegal in recent years as they're made from various magical creatures." She pointed to the mermaid on the wall, and gave an evil smirk, "Mermaid scales, for example. They make a _fantastic_ purple. _Very_ expensive- even in their hay-day. But they were made illegal back in the late 19th century when the ministry decided that merpeople were people too."

"That's because they're sentient," said Hermione, looking at the squares of fabric warily. "Hunting them is wrong. Like elephants, and-"

"Whatever," said Pansy, "I honestly don't care. In any case, it's cheaper and easier to make synthetic dyes that mimic the same color. So how were you guys planning on fixing this... this monstrosity of a color."

Hermione heaved a great breath before saying, "An enchantment to bend light around it and make it appear a different color."

A moment passed where Pansy just blinked at them, then said, "I suppose that would work. You'd have to account for the angles of light, the harshness, other people's perspective of the dress robes- oh, and camera flashes! On the other hand, you could- hear me out- I dunno, re-dye it? Maybe?"

"Er…" Hermione turned pink, then mumbled, "We could try that too, I suppose."

"Okay," said Pansy, then sat back down in the alcove and went back to playing with her spiders, "Go do that. It'd work better than enchantments, anyways. Just order some dye from wherever and go to town. Though be sure to use those samples you took, first, but so long as it's natural it shouldn't interfere with whatever enchantments were originally on it."

"How do you know there are-"

"My spiders are like ninety percent sure it was dyed using crushed up mermaid scales," said Pansy, rolling her eyes, as she gave the fabric squares back to Parvati. "Somebody likely spent a bucket of gold on it originally. Trust me. It has enchantments on it. Now leave."

The three of them then left, leaving Pansy alone to sulk in her quiet alcove. It left Lavender wondering what sort of people could kill merpeople, and crush up their scales. Though they didn't speak the same language- they could only screech above water- they were still very obviously sentient.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Lavender as they passed the Entrance Hall to head upstairs to the owlery to place an order for dye.

Mermaids could only screech above water.

 _Oh, my God! I've got it!_ Lavender stopped in her tracks, making Hermione and Parvati peer back at her curiously.

"Lavender?" said Parvati, "What is it?"

Lavender giggled and began to jump up and down in place. "I've got it! The egg! I haven't told you, but it screeched like a banshee when I first opened it in the hospital."

"Okay…"

Hermione gasped, "Mermaids?"

"Yes!"

"Mermaids?" Parvati looked back and forth between them like they were mad, then gasped too, "Oh… Oh! Oh oh oh! Do you think-?"

"If we just dunk it underwater, we can hear it!" said Lavender excitedly, then like a switch, her elation ceased as realization pulled her back down to earth. "I just need to dunk it underwater…"

"What's wrong with that?" said Hermione, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Nothing…" said Lavender, pulling her sleeves down over her hands. While she could put aside her feelings for Hermione long enough to fix Ron's robes, she still didn't want to talk to her about something as personal as what was wrong with her skin.

"That's bullshit," said Hermione, placing her hands on her hips. "Look, Lavender, I know you're mad at me, and I don't blame you. But-"

"Just give it a rest, Hermione. Please. I'll handle it."

The face that Hermione gave her reminded her strongly of McGonagall. She turned away from Hermione to inspect a rather obscene portrait of an ogre dancing ballet.

"Alright," said Hermione softly, "But promise me you'll get it done? The Second Task is three months away. And I know that seems like a long time, but it's not."

"Promise," said Lavender. A gust of wind came through the Entrance Hall just then, causing Lavender to pull her school robes around her tightly while Hermione peered on. "Er- Can you too handle the order for the dye? It's cold and icy in the owlery. I'd rather stay inside, if possible."

"Of course," said Parvati.

With that, the two girls left Lavender alone.

_Come and seek-_

_-Fire danced across her skin, or lack thereof. It was like thousands of white-hot needles stabbing her all at once. There was nothing else except scorching fever, aching pain, and the icy chill where her skin was unblemished._

_When she was conscious, she could hear her parents talking with the healers._

_"She's losing weight," It was her father._

_"That's perfectly normal. There is a lot of regenerating her body has to do."_

_"And the fever? What about her pain?" Her mother had now joined in._

_"We're doing all we can. At this point, it's a waiting game…"-_

Lavender pulled her head out of the deep sink that resided in the castle's laundry rooms. Gasping, she clutched the sides and tried to contain the tremors that were now erupting up and down her arms as her head screamed. Inside the sink, she could hear a faint song from the Golden Egg that sat beneath the water, but to comprehend it, she would need to dunk her head underneath once again. The only problem was that it didn't seem to matter what temperature the water was; it was either too hot or too cold.

 _Damn it all!_ She thought. In front of her, there was a mirror that showed her hair plastered to her face. The pale light that lit the room seemed to enhance the difference between the new skin, and the old. Something inside her burst, and in a fit she punched the mirror, shattering it.

"Bollocks!" said Lavender as she thought, _Why did I do that?_ She held her hand as a sharp pain spread across it, and blood dripped into the sink below. When inspected, the damage wasn't too bad. Nothing and Episkey couldn't fix.

Shivering from the cold of her wet head, she pointed her wand at the mirror, " _Reparo!_ " then, " _Episkey!_ "

 _This whole tournament is cocked-up,_ thought Lavender as she melted into the floor to mope. _I mean, what sort of person sends kids out in front of dragons, and whatever else could be waiting in the Second Task? There is a reason we stopped it. It's inhumane._

Relinquishing defeat, Lavender submerged her arms underneath the water long enough to grab the Golden Egg and close it before it could screech and declare her position to the rest of the castle. It was nearly curfew- a noise like that at this time would just be rude. Once the water had been drained, she left.

 _I wonder if I could jerry-rig some weird water tank thing like Dad has in his record player… No, that would be too complicated. Maybe I could ask someone to listen to it for me, instead. No… Everyone already thinks I'm this fragile, defenseless flower. I came in fourth in the First Task. I can't let people know I'm so weak that I can't even dunk my head in some water._ Lavender's thoughts raced through her head, and she almost didn't see Cedric coming around the corner as she started up the stairs to head back to her Common Room.

"Oh _Merlin_ ," said Cedric, nearly running into her.

"No, it's just me," said Lavender, trying to hide her turmoil.

"Ah," Cedric smiled at her. _Harry was right, he is good looking._ "Glad to see you're doing alright. I know Fleur was pretty shaken up. Even Krum looked like he was about to sick himself."

"Oh," Lavender shifted in place, "Er… Well, here I am."

"Yeah," Cedric cleared his throat, "Well, I'm off. See you around."

Lavender nodded, then before Cedric left from earshot, something overcame her and she said, "Wait, Cedric?"

"Yeah?"

"The egg, it's in Mermish. You need to be underwater to hear it."

A shocked look spread over Cedric as he stopped in his tracks. His handsome face lit up "Really? I've been trying to figure it out for ages. How'd you figure it out?"

"Just…" Lavender shrugged. _I stumbled into it while helping Ron,_ "An accident, I guess. Still don't what it says, though. I don't have a good place to listen to it." _At least not without touching the water._ "Anyways, this whole tournament is a shit fest, so I thought you should know. Besides, we can't compete unless we're on equal footing, right?"

"Thanks," said Cedric, then he walked up to her, "Hey if you want to use the Prefects Bathrooms, I can give you the password."

"Really? Isn't there a rule about-"

Cedric shrugged, "We're not supposed to let other students in, but as Head Boy, I'm allowed to make exceptions if I feel there is a proper cause."

"Thanks," said Lavender, "That's very… gallant, of you."

"I'd do it for anyone," said Cedric, "Anyways, the password is _Babble_. It's on the fifth floor, behind the fourth door to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered. If anyone comes in and asks what you're doing there, just tell them I gave you the go-ahead. I've got to run. I'm meeting Cho for a snowball fight."

"But it's dark out. It's almost curfew,"

"Older students can stay up longer. And the dark makes it more fun!" said Cedric, waggling his eyebrows.

 _Bit weird, but okay,_ thought Lavender, hurrying for the Gryffindor tower. If she hurried, she could grab her bath things, as well as the Golden Egg, and make it to the Prefects bath before curfew. She would need to sneak back, but hopefully, she would be able to avoid rounds.

What she didn't count on was Hermione ambushing her as she descended the staircase to leave the tower.

"Where are you going? Curfew is in fifteen minutes."

"Hypocrite," snapped Lavender, remembering all the times Hermione snuck out with Harry and Ron, "You sneak out all the time."

"Only when I have to," Hermione growled, then looked at the Golden Egg and said, "Why are you sneaking out? Are you going to listen to the egg?"

"None of your business,"

Lavender turned to leave, but Hermione blocked her, "Did you know that you take a shower every morning. _Every morning_ \- like clockwork. You get up, shower, style your hair- and recently make-up too."

"So?"

"You been back at school a week, and you haven't showered once." said Hermione, moving herself so that she was directly facing Lavender, "Now, I did some research on burns, and one thing that pops out is extreme sensitivity to heat and cold- either where the skin is either damaged or destroyed, or when it's able to be regenerated with magic and the skin and nerves are still new. Lavender... you're obviously leaving to take a bath, but I'm worried that you might get hurt."

"I'm fine," snarled Lavender, shoving past Hermione to descend into the common room where a few students who hadn't gone to bed yet turned to watch. "Bugger off!" she snapped to both the onlookers and Hermione.

"No, you're not!" said Hermione as she followed Lavender through the portrait hole. "You're spacing out- even before the First Task. Please, I'm worried you'll drift off and drown, or something."

"Ugh!" Lavender stomped her foot like a child and sent Hermione a scathing glare. Try as she might, she couldn't argue with Hermione's logic. And, if she were honest with herself, it would feel better-having someone with her when she plunged into water that was certain to hurt. _Besides... What was it Snape said? I should make up before it's too late._ "Fine! Follow me if you want to. But I'm taking a bath, so I expect privacy."

"Of course," said Hermione. Then she said, "Wait here. There is a map I need to borrow from Harry. I'd rather not run into anyone on the way back."

After a few minutes of waiting awkwardly by the Fat Lady's portrait, Lavender heard the portrait hole open once more, and Hermione clutched an old weathered piece of parchment that she hurriedly stuffed in her robes.

"Come on," said Hermione, "Let's hurry."

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the Prefects bath. It was a large, spacious chamber that upon first glance was very much like the rest of the school's bathroom. Then, upon further inspection, one would find a large swimming pool-sized bathtub that was sunk into the ground and contained all sorts of knobs and dials that dictated temperature, and released bubbles and oils.

Lavender could do nothing more than stare in awe at it, as the pool filled up. To her delight, Hermione also seemed to be struck speechless. She wondered if muggles had anything like the pool, then reasoned that they must. _What sort of people wouldn't?_

Somehow, she regained her senses enough to play with the knobs and add in the scented oils and perfumes. Soon, the mirrors in the bathroom were all fogged from steam, and the pool was filled. Cautiously, Lavender tested the water. Not wanting to put her hand in it yet, she finagled herself to the ground so that she could dip her elbow in the water. It was warm, and comfortably so. She almost couldn't feel it.

Still, when she started to test the water with her hand instead, she felt it tremble and she stopped with her hand inches above the pool.

"If you want, I can get in the pool and listen to it for you,"

Hermione kneeled on the floor next to Lavender, her frizzy hair almost ballooning over her face due to the humidity.

"No, I need to do this myself. I can't- People already think I'm weak."

"I'm not going to tell anyone," said Hermione, "And- I don't think you're weak."

"That's a load of crap," said Lavender wryly, "Weren't you yelling at me not even a month ago that I couldn't learn _Protego_ in time for the First Task."

There was a very long pause before Hermione answered, "I did. I was wrong, and not just about that." Hermione shifted so that she was sitting, and facing Lavender, "I was obsessed with being right. I got jealous, and told myself that you couldn't possibly be right for Ron- you were frivolous and shallow, and Ron wanted someone practical and mature."

"But I am frivolous and shallow," said Lavender, her voice breaking as she said it, "I am! Just look at how I blew up at Ron over something as stupid as dress robes. He probably hates me now."

"Lavender, he doesn't hate you," said Hermione, "My point is, while I thought I was being rational, I wasn't."

"What does that mean?"

"I wasn't being rational, I was rationalizing. I realize that now, and I'm sorry."

It felt like a tsunami of emotion swept over Lavender when she heard those words. She hugged the Golden Egg close and tried to hide her face as she felt hot tears drip down. After a few moments, the wave passed, and Lavender started to compose herself while Hermione sat and watched, looking like she was unsure how to handle the situation.

"I'm sorry," said Hermione, "I don't hang around girls very often, and Harry and Ron can be so stoic, sometimes. I'm not sure what you want me to-"

Unable to help herself, Lavender felt a laugh bubbling up from her sobs. "Ron? Stoic?"

"Have you seen him when he gets upset?" whispered Hermione, "He'll shut you out, and go off and sulk."

Another laugh bubbled up, then Lavender glanced at the water that steamed lightly in the pool. Though she knew Hermione would go in the water in a heartbeat, it was something Lavender needed to do for herself. For the last few weeks, she'd been washing with cloths and the sink. There was something cleansing about the idea of swimming in the giant pool of water that just couldn't compare to washing with a rag. "It's going to hurt,"

Hermione didn't answer. Lavender didn't expect her too. Instead, she put a hand on Lavender's shoulder, then headed into one of the stalls, likely to read or watch the odd map she'd taken from Harry.

Cautiously, Lavender eased her way into the water placing the egg on the ground next to the pool. She expected to feel a sort of shock as her legs hit the water, and she did to an extent. But somehow the knowledge that Hermione was only a few yards away seemed to help her feel relaxed enough to plunge the rest of the way in. An odd feeling settled over her in the lukewarm water where she seemed to feel two temperatures. On her new skin, the water was hot, on her old skin the water was still lukewarm.

After a moment, she drifted back up and let a giggle out. Though the task seemed so small in retrospect, the feeling of finally being able to just soak in hot water without terror bubbling up was incredible. Soon, even the scalding feeling of the new skin drifted away until there was nothing left but a satisfying warmth scrubbing everything away.

When she was ready, Lavender grabbed the egg and plunged underwater.

_Come and seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground._

_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_To recover what we took._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) Aesop's Fables were written between 640 and 564 BCE. I find it unreasonable that the wizarding world would have never heard of them as they only split off from the muggle world in the 18th century.


	12. AKA Shake it Out

_"Malfoy! Hey, Malfoy!"_

_An eleven-year-old, nearly twelve years old, Draco Malfoy scurried along, trying to ignore Marcus Flint yelling at him down the corridor. Unfortunately, Marcus Flint was one of the taller Slytherins and easily caught up to him, roughly grabbing his arm._

_"Listen here you little twerp," said the hulking fifth year, "You lost our house fifty points- FIFTY -in that harebrained scheme of yours. If you want ANY hope of getting onto the Quidditch team next year, you better win them back, got it? I don't care what sort of donation your father gives us, if we lose the cup because of you, you're out."_

_"But-"_

_"But what?" snarled Flint, "I know you've never really had to be a team player, so let me bring you up to speed. Here in Slytherin, there is a code; you don't conspire against housemates, you don't leave housemates in a jam, and you most certainly DON'T LOSE US THE HOUSE CUP IN ONE NIGHT!"_

_Thus started a month of frantic work to try and gain points by any means possible._

_It was well known that every teacher in the school offered points for times their students did extra work. After brushing up on a bit of studying, McGonagall gave him five points for reciting Gamps Laws of Elemental Transformation when called upon in class. Flitwick gave him ten points for an origami crane he bewitched to fly around the classroom; Snape even gave him fifteen points for a particularly well-done Wiggenweld Potion._

_It was slow work. But Draco refused to give up. He would not let down his housemates. Plus, more than anything he wanted to make the Slytherin Quidditch team. Marcus Flint already knew how well he could fly, and his father was offering to donate a bunch of badly needed new brooms if Flint reserved a spot of the team for Draco. But if Draco couldn't make up these points, all was lost._

_But with a little hard work, Draco managed to succeed in regaining the lost points. The last of the fifty points were regained in Herbology when Professor Sprout gave him five points for creating a perfect dittany infusion._

_Soon, the End of the Year Feast was upon them. Potter and his friends got into some trouble that landed Potter in the Hospital Wing. According to rumors, it had something to do with You-Know-Who. Draco thought it was ridiculous until he showed up to the feast bandaged and bruised, with a victorious smirk plastered on his face. But he ignored it. It wasn't important. The curtains hung heavy with silver and emerald green, and Flint pulled him aside to tell him his spot of the team next year was a sure thing._

_"You're better than Higgs, at any rate," said Flint, stalking off with a whistle under his breath._

_His joy at receiving the news was short-lived, however. For when Dumbledore stood up, announcing a 'few last-minute points', he knew something Very Bad was about to happen. And Bad it was._

_Soon, Gryffindors three hundred and twelve points turned to three hundred and sixty-two, then four hundred and twelve, then four hundred and seventy-two._

_They were tied._

No, I worked so hard… _thought Draco in horror, casting a glance at Flint who was starting to carve into the table with his knife furiously._ He can't just award them one hundred and fifty points in one go. Not after- the curtains are all Slytherin, the decorations are all Slytherin. We won! And for what? Intelligence? A game of chess? Courage? What the hell did _they_ do, and why keep it secret if he's just going to give them the house cup for it?

_At the podium, Dumbledore continued despite Draco's horror, "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award to Mr. Neville Longbottom, ten points,"_

_Four hundred and eighty-two points._

_Slytherin had lost._

_Dumbledore clapped while the Gryffindor table erupted into undeserved cheers, celebrating their victory. Draco could only sulk and listen to Flint swear like a sailor, stabbing the table with his knife. Potter turned around and peered at Draco, his stupid eyes the color of Slytherin green glinting in the candlelight, and his face harboring evidence of a fight that was still healing. He gave Draco a smug smirk._

_'_ See? Dumbledore likes me better than you. _' It seemed to say._

Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve: In Which B*tches are Not to Be Trusted.**

_E=mc2_

The equation from research journals Draco had managed to dig up in the muggle studies section of the library stared at him like it was laughing at his befuddlement. He wished there were actual books, rather than old handwritten journals that went into further explanation, but you can't always get what you wished for. Any real books they had seemed to be from at least two hundred years ago, and were falling apart, or worse completely outdated and didn't seem to make sense. What t _he fuck does E=mc2 mean? They're just letters. I can get numbers, but these don't even have that._ Growling, Draco continued to read, hoping that there would be a further explanation.

_Seems confusing, I know._

_Let's take two objects with identical constituents. Say, two rubber balls. Those objects don't necessarily have equal masses, because an object made up of multiple parts is not just the sum of those parts. It also is dependant upon how said parts are moving, and how it's been built. Now, let's take those two rubber balls and say that are identical atom for atom, except one of them is bouncing and the other is remaining perfectly still. The ball that is moving will have more mass._

_Why is this?_

The handwriting changed.

**_Because energy is basically Spicy Matter!_ **

_Don't listen to James, listen to me._

_The ball is bouncing; so it has kinetic energy._

_Whilst it is bouncing, the rubber is squashing and moving and tensing; so it has potential energy._

_Finally, there is some friction being generated from the bouncing and moving that heats the ball just a little bit, and those atoms start jiggling; so there is some thermal energy._

_So, what Einstein's equation says is that all that energy is established as part of the rubber balls mass-_

"Draco! Pst! Draco!"

"Huh?"

Startled, Draco looked up from his sheet of parchment and textbook he was currently studying, trying to learn the complicated symbols he had seen in Daphne's book, as well as apply it to the alchemy book he had been studying. Oddly enough, the two disciplines seemed to have their similarities. But it involved a lot of complicated math and was starting to give him a migraine. _I need some tea… very, very strong tea. Shit, maybe coffee. Rich, very black coffee..._

There was a thump, and Pansy sat down next to him.

"You should take me to the Yule Ball," said Pansy, leaning on her elbow coyly.

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm adorable? Duh,"

With a growl, Draco turned away, chewing on the tip of his quill and tried to concentrate, and hide the book from Pansy's prying eyes. _Or do I not hide it? She might get more interested if I hide it. God fucking damnitt. Fuck this bitch._ "Not interested, Pans. Not sure if I'll even go,"

Speechless was something Draco never thought he'd hear from Pansy, but apparently, it was something she was capable of. "What?" said Pansy, after gaping at him like a fish for a solid moment. "Oh come on, you have to go! Everyone is going!"

"Not Astoria," said Draco. And it was true. Draco asked her not two days ago. ' _Not my thing,_ ' was the answer she gave him. She had been avoiding him since, choosing instead to hang out with Daphne in the Astronomy tower.

"Who cares?" said Pansy, "She's one girl. Please? Think about it? I have this gorgeous, frilly pink dress that I think looks stunning on me. And it'd look even better next to those black dress robes you have."

"Isn't there anyone else you'd rather take?" said Draco, and was met with a strange look on Pansy's face. It was as if she were a fish trying to breathe above land.

"No, of course not. That'd be stupid." Pansy gave a small scoff, "What are you reading?"

"Math,"

"Looks more like a journal," said Pansy, leaning over. "Who wrote it?"

"I don't know," said Draco irritably, then peered at the cover, "Lily Evens and James- James fucking Potter. Right, wonderful. Look, if you leave me alone, I'll think about it."

"Perfect!" said Pansy, cackling, then blowing him a kiss, "Mwa! See you later!"

 _Shit, where was I? Right._ Draco continued to read the journal, but there was a lot of pages that had been scratched out or terms that went undefined. There were a few interesting equations that looked to be some undeveloped plan for a _very_ fast broomstick, however. But for the most part, the journal was sporadically written and appeared as if Lily and James started it out as something to help future students, but never fully finished it. _Damn. Don't they have any better books? It can't be that hard to find a muggle store and update the library. They're like ants! They're everywhere!_

So, after doing his best to reign in his irritation, Draco gathered up the journals and walked up to Madame Pince who was shelving a few magazines.

"Excuse me, Madame Pince?" said Draco politely, "I was wondering if you knew where I could find any more muggle studies books? I have some independent study, but all the books are outdated, and the journals can be a bit hard to understand."

Madame Pince grimaced sympathetically, "Sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but unfortunately, the books we currently have are the only books the ministry will approve of. I've taken it up with Dumbledore many times before, but the answer is always the same." Madame Pince pointed to the journals in his arms, "That's why I leave those journals up. They're covered under peer coaching, and Dumbledore has much more say in that department."

"Oh…" Draco pondered this for a moment, "Madame Pince, why would the ministry want to purposefully force wizards to use outdated muggle studies books?"

"I don't know," said the old woman, "You tell me,"

Draco stayed silent, but inside he knew the answer. It was the same excuse he used just a month before. It was the same excuse he always used. Muggles are savages. _If wizards believe that muggles are savages, why would they ever want anything to do with them? Maybe… maybe it's so that the Statue of Secrecy is kept contained…_ It was a reasonable conclusion, but it did nothing to stop the thought that it also let wizards like his father remain in power.

At the moment, however, it was irrelevant. If Madame Pince couldn't get new books, Draco doubted he could. At least, not through kosher means.

He would need to find someone who could. Maybe Daphne.

With that thought in mind, Draco decided to trek to the Astronomy Tower. Only upon the first inspection, he found no one there. _Odd,_ thought Draco, _Maybe Sinistra would know where she is…_ Draco knocked on her office door that was to the right of a row of telescopes.

"Enter!" Sinistra's voice rang out.

Upon entering, Draco was met with the sight of one of the strangest instruments he had ever seen. It looked like a massive telescope, with bronze mechanicals dials that looked to rotate it around a see-through ceiling similar to the one in the Great Hall. To the left of the odd telescope, where Draco saw that Daphne and Astoria were located, there were mounds of copper pipes and what looked like magnets, along with what looked like various sheets of linen stretched tightly over frames.

Draco could only stare.

"Did you need something, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Er…" said Draco, lost for thought. "I… Can I talk to Daphne for just a moment?"

"I'm busy," said Daphne. When Sinistra gave her a pointed look, she rolled her eyes, "Fine, what do you need?"

"I need some help with math," said Draco, "Studying alchemy, as you know."

"I don't have any books on alchemy," said Daphne. She stood up and crossed the room, pulling Draco with her until they were out of the office. "I just have books on space. And a few on math, and the one about space that you got from Hermione."

"How-"

"The original one had a very sweet note from Hermione's parents written in the front cover." said Daphne, "But it's okay. Astoria told me the other one had an unfortunate meeting with your father. That being said, how do I know my other books will be safe? They aren't cheap, and my allowance isn't as generous as yours."

"Fine, I'll get my own then," said Draco, "Can you talk to Hermione for me?"

"Those statements conflict with each other. And Draco, I'm busy." Daphne frowned, "If I see her I can talk to her, but all my free time is spent up here right now. Not to mention I don't know what subjects you're looking for. Is it just math, or do you need something else?"

Draco leaned against the Astronomy Tower wall, "I would give you the money, of course. But I can't just talk to her on my own! The walls have eyes and ears, and they talk to people." He rubbed his temple, then continued. "The alchemy book McGonagall gave me keeps referencing mathematical equations that are similar to the equations in your book about space. And the muggle studies section is a complete joke."

Daphne stared at him, then frowned helplessly, looking at the floor.

He growled, then started to leave, but Daphne pulled him back. "Wait, good lord, Draco. I'm just trying to think of something. Stop being so overdramatic. I have a few catalogs you can flip through. Hermione gave them to me when I first started reading about muggle things so that I could figure out what I wanted. Come on, I'll go get them."

After a short goodbye call to Sinistra and Astoria, Daphne and Draco made their way down all seven flights of stairs, until they had arrived at the Slytherin Dungeons. Daphne ran in through the secret entrance to collect the catalogs, and Draco waited somewhat impatiently. A few moments passed, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Draco was tempted to follow her but decided it wasn't worth it. He couldn't go into the Girls Dormitories anyhow. So, he decided to pace. Another few minutes passed, and he grew more impatient.

Suddenly, he heard a giggle and some whispers. Two voices, chatting in the dark of the dungeons. _I shouldn't snoop…_ thought Draco, about to turn and leave. _Who am I kidding? I'm a Slytherin. We're very nearly obligated to snoop whenever possible!_

He approached the voices and caught sight of Theodore Nott, his face lit by the light of a torch in a small alcove in the corridor. Next to him was Pansy Parkinson. A small glance in his direction told Draco that Theodore saw him, but Pansy didn't seem to notice.

"It's such a bother," said Pansy, "Really, it is. I mean, I'm having fun with Hermione, and with the way, Draco's been going lately, who knows?. But Circe, this whole thing is a pain. It's going to screw up my plans with Draco and his father, I just know it!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Draco blurted out from behind Pansy, making her jump and turn around. Theodore gave a small smirk.

"Draco!" said Pansy, her eyes widening. "Hello- er... see, well… It's nothing _bad_." Her eyes darted back and forth, then landed on Theodore as if to implore him for help. His smirk only grew wider.

"Did you know he was there, Theo?" said Pansy weakly. Theodore shrugged.

"Only for those last few moments," said Theodore pushing past Pansy, "You know, I suppose all those rumors you've spread about me being a traitorous backstabber are true after all. How is it? Getting a taste of your own medicine?"

Pansy could only gape as Theodore stalked away, leaving nothing but the dark of the dungeons, and the quiet broken by the occasional drops of water that pooled on the stone floor from the lake.

"Draco, you have to understand-"

"There is a code, Pansy! You don't conspire against your housemates!"

"It wasn't just me, it was Theo too!" shrilled Pansy, pointing to where Theodore had just left.

"You said my plans, not our," said Draco, crossing his arms. "What is that about? And why does it involve my father?"

Pansy clamped her mouth shut and shook her head while looking at the floor.

"Pansy!"

She flinched, but looked back up slowly, as if it were the most difficult thing she had ever done. "Fine…" said Pansy, "I'll tell you. But you can't tell your father. Please, Draco. You can't. He'll kill me, or worse..."

"He wouldn't-"

"Yes, he would,"

"And how do you know that?" said Draco hotly.

"Because that's what he did to my Aunt Marigold,"

Silence once again overtook their small corner of the dungeons. It stretched for another few moments, most of which Draco was torn between wishing that Daphne would turn up and break this awkward moment, and wanting to either slap Pansy or urge her on.

"Your aunt is sick. My father had nothing to do with that,"

A strange hysterical laugh bubbled its way out of Pansy. "Nothing to do with it? He had everything to do with it. Everything. Do you remember when we were younger and I showed up at you manor at night, sobbing my eyes out?"

"I- vaguely… we were five. I don't remember much."

"It was the night Mr. Nott killed his wife," said Pansy viciously, "And don't say that Mr. Nott didn't kill his wife, because he did. I was there. I heard it; Theo saw it!"

"And wouldn't that mean that Theo could have just told the Aurors what he saw?"

Pansy started pacing quickly, her agitation showing, then responded in a very high, childlike tone, "' _Oh, Mr. Auror, I don't know what I saw!'_ That's what Theo told them! While I was telling everyone who would listen to what they did, Theo went and told everyone that I was a liar and backed up Mr. Nott's story! And then, when your mother and father finally let me see Daddy, he took me home and we found my Aunt Marigold sprawled on the floor, unable to speak and barely able to move. We took her to St Mungo's and do you know what they said happened to her? Apoplexy. Injury of the brain. Muggles call it a stroke, I guess."

"He wouldn't-" said Draco, struggling for words, "Why? I don't understand why he'd hurt your Aunt Marigold, and what it has to do with-"

"Because!" raged Pansy, "My Aunt Marigold had dirt on your father, and Mr. Nott's wife knew about it! From what I've been able to find out, someone convinced Aunt Marigold to serve as a witness against your father for his crimes during the war. She had proof he wasn't Imperioused. So- so to hide it, he hunted her down and did something to her to keep her from talking. And now she spends her days in front of the garden window, drooling and dribbling wine all over herself when the nurses aren't looking."

As she finished her story, Pansy's voice broke in a way that Draco had only heard once before; when he was lying on the ground bleeding out from a Hippogriff wound last year. She paused, then some strange transformation overtook her face, and any hint of vulnerability left it.

"So there you have it," said Pansy, "That's what my plans are. I'm just trying to get proof, and get my aunt justice."

"You're lying," said Draco, not wanting to believe what Pansy told him, "You're always lying, this just proves it- no, I don't believe you-"

"Really? Because I would think you, of all people, would understand what he is!"

"And just what does that mean?"

"Well, he did burn your muggle book, didn't he? I was there, I saw it." said Pansy, placing a hand gently on his arm while Draco struggled for words, "I know you don't want to believe it, but Mr. Nott and your father, they're not just bad people- they're dangerous."

"But covering up a murder?" said Draco incredulously, "And whatever they did to your aunt. Pansy, we were children. Surely- hang on," Suddenly, Draco felt something click. "How did you know it was a muggle book my father burned?"

"Well, I was there, wasn't I?"

Draco backed away from Pansy, watching as the torch burned, and the low light cast shadows around her face. It made her pixie-like face look even more angular, and gave her an eerie aura, "You were there, but only after the book had been burned. You couldn't have known what it was."

"I- Educated guess. After all, why else would Lucius Malfoy create such a fuss?"

Draco shook his head, pieces of the puzzle starting to fit together now. For whatever reason, Pansy had been the one to rat him out to his father. "No. No, I don't believe you. And until you're ready to confess, I'm not speaking to you."

"Draco, please!" She caught his arm, desperately pulling him towards her. "You have to believe me. I just guessed!"

"Piss off!" said Draco, shaking off Pansy's death grip. He practically flew out of the corner, and back to the Slytherin entrance. There, he saw Daphne crawling through the entrance, her arms laden with colorful catalogs. She beamed when she saw him, but her smile quickly faded when she saw his dark look and Pansy running out from behind.

Not bothering to give her an explanation, Draco snatched the catalogs and stalked away to where no one could find or bother him. A few months ago, he might have taken his frustration out on some unsuspecting Hufflepuffs, or perhaps Neville Longbottom, but now… Now he didn't know what to do except to walk away and stew.

Weeks passed, and soon the Yule Ball was upon Hogwarts. Currently, Draco was sulking in the hidden room he found with Astoria, reading in the pale blue light that shone from small fires in various jars that were placed upon shelves and tables. On the bookshelf, as well as the table in front of him, was a variety of new books that he ordered using allowance that had been saved over the last few years. While Draco was at school, there wasn't much he needed to spend it on, after all. _He's not all bad,_ thought Draco. _Maybe he does care for me, in his way._

Yet, the news that Pansy dropped on him just a few weeks ago was disturbing.

It would be untrue to say that Draco was ignorant of what Lucius Malfoy did during the war. But he always insisted to anyone, including Draco, that he was Imperioused. _Even if he weren't- if what Pansy says is true, then if this got out, it would mean Azkaban for Father. In spite of all of Father's faults, of all the horrible things he's done, I can't let that happen. What sort of son would I be if I let Father get sent to hell on earth?_

_But… What sort of person would I be if I just let him get away with it? With covering up a murder? With mutilating some poor woman's mind?_

Draco put on his dragonhide gloves and idly fiddled with a couple lead weights in front of him that sat in front of a scale and glass measuring cups filled with water. Over the last few weeks, as he did everything in his power to hide from practically everyone in his house, Daphne and Astoria included, Draco had learned a lot about alchemy; enough to know that though Alchemy and Transfiguration had their similarities, they were vastly different.

He placed the lead weights on the scale- they were equally balanced. Exactly 1/2lb each.

Once they were weighed, he started to draw out the alchemical diagram on a piece of parchment as the book instructed, then placed the lead weight on top as he had done for the last couple times when trying to turn it to silver. _Alright, lead is in place, now what to transmute it to? Silver didn't work, but why?_

His eyes flickered towards the bookshelf and then back to the table in front of him. Of the books that were scattered, one stood out: _Chemistry! It's not that hard!_ **(*)**

What if lead and silver are too different? Draco flicked through the book, looking for the entry of silver, _Yes, silver has… forty-seven protons to lead's eighty-two. What if I try a different element? What is right next to lead? Okay, left of it is thallium- holy jesus fuck no._ ** _(**)_** _That is not something I want. What about bismuth?_

 _Weakly radioactive, but it's used in muggle medicine, so it can't be that harmful… At least not in small amounts._ He jotted down a mental note to still handle to the metal with gloves and finished preparing the spell.

" _Converto!_ " said Draco, flicking his wand to the metal. The diagram beneath the lead weight glowed, and with a pop and a crinkle, the lead turned shape and color. Excitement raced through Draco's veins and he quickly picked up the hunk of metal to examine it.

"Yes!" But as he picked up the newly transformed bismuth, he realized that something about it felt off.

When he reviewed the chart he quickly felt the elation leave him.

_Bismuth: 208.9804u_

_Lead: 207.2u_

But the weights were exactly the same size as each other, and dunking it into a glass jar of water proved that. Lead, however, was denser than bismuth. If it had changed, then the weight would have become larger than it was originally.

 _It was transfigured, but not transmuted…_ _Still, I may as well leave it and see how long the transformation lasts. Most transfigurations only last a few hours. Maybe this'll be longer._

Deciding he should start to get ready for the ball, Draco packed up his things, and left the hidden room, extinguishing the glass jars of flame as he did so. He could hear laughter and music from the castle above him, signaling that there wasn't much time left before the ball started.

In the Slytherin dorms, Blaise Zabini was getting dressed when Draco arrived, looking handsome in white robes that contrasted nicely with his dark skin. Draco threw on his robes, admiring how much they made him look like a viscount. _I think I could do with a party… maybe it'll distract me from the complete trainwreck my life has become._

Upon exiting his dorms and running down the staircase into the common room, he nearly crashed into Astoria.

"Sorry," said Astoria, mumbling a bit.

"Sorry,"

They danced awkwardly around each other for a moment before Astoria managed to slip past him.

"Are you sure you don't want to go?" said Draco before she could enter her dorm, "You don't even need proper robes. We can just dance. I'll go throw on something casual too so that it wouldn't be weird."

At this, Astoria managed to crack a smile, "That'd be a sight, wouldn't it?" Then, she frowned, "But, I don't think it would be good. I don't- I'm not ready for us to be us. And I think that if I were to go to the ball with you, we'd become us."

"What is us?"

"You know… boyfriend and girlfriend." Astoria walked back down until she was level with Draco's height, "I'm not ready for all that. I can barely see where my future leads with me involved in it, much less another person."

"It's dance, Astoria. Not a marriage proposal," said Draco dryly. He sighed, frowning a bit and trying to nurse his wounded heart. "But… fine. If that's what you want then fine."

"Can we still be friends?" It was barely audible to Draco's ears, and Astoria seemed to be waiting on his answer with bated breath.

"I want to," managed Draco. He turned away and could hear Astoria wait for a moment before walking back up the stairs to her dorm.

As Draco continued towards the Great Hall, the music grew louder, and the laughter grew heavier. He could see students standing in glittery robes, jumping around their dates, and chatting in large groups. Pansy was clutching Crabbe's arm as the two of them chatted with several older Slytherins, wearing a frilly pink gown as she described just a few weeks ago. She looked thinner than usual as if she hadn't been eating well.

Upon spotting him, Pansy gave a small wave, signaling for him to join the group. He scowled in reply, not wanting anything to do with her.

It was then that McGonagall started calling for the students to make way. The first dance was about to start. Quickly, she began herding crowds of students into two groups along the Great Hall, and like an ocean, the crowd parted, with Draco getting shoved next to Zabini.

There was a short break in between when McGonagall left the Great Hall, and the four champions appeared with their dates.

He heard Zabini gasp, and quite honestly, he did too.

The first champion, Viktor Krum wearing dress robes decorated with heavy furs, walked through the Great Hall with Hermione Granger on his arm. She was beaming and looked radiant in a periwinkle dress. But the oddest change about her was her hair; normally ballooning around her in a gigantic frizzed mess, now it was flowing down her back in sleek, gentle waves.

Soon, the other three champions walked past; Fleur in a flowing silvery dress and on the arm of a Beauxbatons boy Draco didn't know, Cedric in a tuxedo-like set of dress robes with Cho Chang on his arm, and Lavender was wearing a glittery purple dress that Draco was certain would spread glitter everywhere with, ugh-

Weasley #6 was wearing an antique-looking set of dress robes with all sorts of frills and lace attached to it. The color wasn't half-bad however; it was colored indigo, like the night sky - the style was off by a couple of centuries, however. Draco was certain his family had something like the off-putting robes hidden away in their attic.

Soon, they started dancing. Once the first waltz was over, students began pouring onto the dance floor. As he didn't have a partner and the loud music was making him start to regret coming, Draco decided to sulk at a table where it might be quiet enough for him to think. _Why would the metal not have transmuted? I did the spell correctly. It transformed. So why would it have stopped at transfiguring, and not have completed the transmutation?_

What's missing?

"Do you not have a date?"

It was Zabini. He pulled up a chair at sat down next to Draco, sitting backwards on the chair.

"What's it to you?"

"Curiosity, mostly. Pansy's been telling anyone who would listen that you were going with her, and well… She's dancing with Crabbe." Zabini sent a grimace to Crabbe, who was trying to waltz with Pansy, but mostly stepped on her toes.

"I pity Crabbe then," said Draco. _Not really, they both deserve each other. But I imagine it was Pansy pulling the strings the whole time. Crabbe's too thick- I almost can't hold him accountable._

"Oof. Trouble in paradise?"

"We're not together," snapped Draco, causing Blaise to hold up his hands in surrender.

"Sorry, didn't realize it was a touchy subject," said Zabini,

Draco glowered at the dance floor and felt another urge to simply leave altogether as he watched Ron spinning Lavender around. _What's the point? No date, and every time I see Pansy I want to slap her, and I'm sure everyone here would rather I fucked right on off. Weasley #6 and Potter would probably agree. Where is Potter, anyways?_

As if reading his mind, but in all honesty was likely simply reacting to Draco craning his neck to gaze around the Great Hall, Zabini said, "Potter is dancing -well- sitting with Padma Patil. Poor girl got stood up by some Beauxbatons dick."

"Ah,"

"Speaking of dancing," said Zabini, sending a cat-like smirk in Draco's direction, "You seem to be in a right pissy mood at Pansy. What do you say we dance together? I mean, I like to think of myself as a good catch, and you get to shove it in Pansy's face while she's attempting to dance with Crabbe- who, let's be honest, is a bit of a troll."

"You're a bloke," said Draco, feeling somewhat confused.

"So what?"

So what indeed?Draco looked Zabini over. He was certainly handsome, and Draco found wasn't exactly _opposed_ to the idea. _Father wouldn't approve._ _True, men being with other men like that isn't bad, necessarily. It's even needed in some traditional pagan rituals. But it doesn't produce children. The union isn't the same. It's not supposed to be done in public. At least, not by respectable families._ Draco fiddled with the tablecloth nervously. _Yet... What was it I said to Astoria earlier? It's a dance, not a marriage proposal. Plus, why do I care what Father thinks? He's a bad person. If Pansy is being even halfway truthful, he's a criminal, or worse._

He could feel his heart hammering. If he said yes, all eyes would be on him. Or at least, that's how he was certain it would feel.

"Malfoy," said Zabini, a laugh buried in his throat, "Mate, you don't have to have a panic attack over this. Just say no, and I'll take my leave."

"No," said Draco, "Wait, that's not what I meant. I meant, no don't leave. I'll dance with you."

_McGonagall said to practice being brave… I wonder if this would be sufficient practice._

Victory danced in Zabini's eyes. "Fantastic!"

Within moments, Draco was being pulled onto the dance floor, and he scrambled to find his footing, "Which one of us… well, leads?"

"You can lead," said Zabini, "I've practiced both. But if you want I can take the reins later."

"Sounds good,"

Soon, Draco was glad he hadn't left. As they danced, whirling around the dance floor like a spinning top, he could feel his heart racing, his elation rising. Before long he forgot about the alchemical failure from earlier, and Pansy's betrayal didn't seem to sting as badly. Blaise was a wonderful dancer, and he seemed to take to waltzing with the grace and ease of a bird in flight.

"So, think you can answer a question for me?" said Zabini after what seemed like ages of dancing.

"Maybe,"

"Why were you reading a muggle book?"

Draco froze, then sent him an irritated frown, "Does everyone know?"

"They might," said Zabini casually, "But I only know because I overheard Theo talking about it to Pansy."

"What?" said Draco, balking at the information, "Theo was the-" Slowly, he looked back at Crabbe who was sitting at a table, sulking with Goyle. He was rocking back and forth ever so slightly, as he often did when agitated. _Did I misjudge Crabbe? Did Theo sell me out to Father, and then frame Crabbe?_

"Everything okay?" said Zabini, his brow furrowing with confusion.

"Ugh," Draco growled with frustration, and tore himself away from Zabini, nearly running into Potter who had been dancing near them with Padma. _Apples… Apples and cheese. That's what Dobby always got me when I was anxious, or upset._ _Who can I trust? Everyone says you can't trust Slytherins. I always used to think it was just a saying, a stereotype. But I suppose all stereotypes have their origins._

Shoving past more students, Draco made a beeline for the snack table but got there just as Weasley #6 took the last of the apple slices.

_What a fucking tosser._

"What's your problem?" said Weasley #6, giving Draco a confused scowl as Draco gave him a glowering, offended look.

Draco grunted but said nothing. Instead, he left, deciding to head for the kitchens after getting directions from a seventh year Ravenclaw. _Maybe a Crispin… something a little bit sweet._

As he left, he could hear Zabini call after him. Draco didn't turn around, but he heard his footsteps echoing against the floor. Not wanting to be followed, Draco hurried his stride and disappeared into the crowd.

The corridors folded in the darkness of the night, torches along the walls doing very little to lift the gloom. _Down the staircase, near the Hufflepuff basement, look for a portrait of a fruit basket, and tickle the pear. Simple enough._ Soon enough, he found the portrait and gave the pear a small tickle. Oddly enough, he could have sworn it giggled.

Inside, he was greeted by the largest kitchen he had ever seen, and over a hundred house elves, which all looked at him at the same time, twitching their ears nervously. In the corner, there was a female house-elf, sitting on a stool, completely wasted. One of the house-elves started pulling her away.

Another, a tiny shrew-like elf whose gender Draco could not identify, came up to him, "You is Master Malfoy, yes? I is Topsy, sir,"

"I- uh, yes. I'm just- er," At his confirmation, he could feel the atmosphere of the room turn from warm, and cheery, and a little bit curious, to downright hostile. Still, the elves continued about their business, while Topsy stayed its course in staring at Draco until it was given orders. _Orders… that's what Father would call it. He'd just stand there barking orders at Dobby… Is that what I'm supposed to do too? Or is that wrong? Not everything Father did was wrong- it couldn't have been. But… ugh, why does this have to be so complicated! What would Potter do? Probably make love to them, he has such a boner for being good. But it can't hurt to just talk to them like a normal person, can it? It's not like you ever gave Dobby that decency. Damnitt, I need to stop this and just say something. I look like a crazy person._

"Er… I just need some apple slices, if that's okay. They're out upstairs…" said Draco quietly after a far too long stretch of silence. A few of the elves doing dishes peaked over curiously and a bit of the earlier hostility faded.

Topsy bowed politely and led Daco to a small table that was littered with empty wine bottles from the drunk elf before leaving to fetch apples. _That went alright. Nobody burst into flames._

Before long, Topsy came back with a tray of sliced apples twice the size of its head. "Here is your apples, Master Malfoy, sir."

"Thank you," said Draco. The elf beamed back at him, and a nervous fluttery feeling spread in Draco's gut. _Father, what made you the way that you are? I don't know how much better we are than house-elves, but making them happy, instead of making them cry like you did Dobby feels good._ As he took the tray, he saw Topsy's smile falter, and as Draco turned around, he found out why.

Behind him, holding empty dish trays and covered in hats and scarves was his old elf.

Dobby.

A second passed, and a look of unadulterated terror spread over Dobby's face. There was a crack, and Dobby disappeared, his dishes crashing to the floor.

Dobby was alive.

_Dobby was alive._

The fact made him want to scream for joy and cry in despair at the same time. _Why would Father lie about that? He knew- he knew how much I liked Dobby. He knew how much it hurt to think he was dead. Why would he lie? Was he embarrassed that he freed Dobby? Why would he free Dobby anyways? That's not something he would do?_ The thoughts consumed him as he hastily made his way out of the kitchens.

So consumed by his thoughts that he didn't notice the footsteps behind him. When someone reached out to grab his sleeve, he nearly lost control of the platter of apples and threw it in their face. Luckily, they stopped him first.

"Draco, what's going on?" said the attacker.

Zabini.

"I- what?" said Draco, "Nothing, and when did we get so familier that you can call me Draco?"

It wasn't done in Slytherin. At least, among the boys. Theo was the only one they all called by his given name, and that was only because he got upset whenever someone who wasn't a teacher called him 'Nott'.

Zabini released his sleeve, "You're shaking, and it's not that cold in the castle, so I doubt you're shivering." He then quirked an eyebrow, "And we were just dancing together, so I figured it'd be weird if we kept calling each other by our surnames. But… If that's your thing…"

"Whatever," growled Draco. He looked for a bench where he could sit and eat his apples. _Where even am I? Somewhere in the dungeons, I think._ Upon finding one, he sat, curling up and tucking his knees beneath his chin, looking at strings of lights glowing crystals that had been put up in the dungeons for lighting and decoration. Zabini sat next to him on the other side of the platter, looking a bit concerned. For a few moments, the only sound was the crunching of the apples, and Draco trying his best to not have some sort of breakdown.

_How embarrassing would that be? Turning into some big baby in front of Zabini. Oh, poor me, my father doesn't love me enough to tell me he only freed our house elf instead of killing him._

"Want to talk?"

"No,"

"Hmm…" Zabini took one of Draco's apples, chewed it for a moment, then said, "Did you know I've had six stepdads since I was two? And mum is working on her seventh husband right now."

"Six?" said Draco, welcoming the distraction. He knew that Zabini's family situation was unusual, but it was something he didn't normally talk about.

"Yes," said Zabini, swallowing, "All of them died _mysteriously_ , or whatever." He scoffed, "And then Mum goes around talking about how they were all terrible, and mistreated her…"

"Did they?" said Draco, then realized the inquiry was likely rude, "Sorry…"

"Don't be," said Zabini, "I wouldn't have started talking about it if I didn't expect you to ask questions. But no, they weren't. Most of them were actually quite kind. Short and fat, though. And usually with more money than brains- Mum likes her men that way. It makes it easier to manipulate them. But they were kind, and they were fooled by Mum's charms. She'd tell them all these awful lies about her dead husbands, and fool them into giving her money and presents, and eventually a wedding ring. They never saw Mum for what she was until it was too late, and it's not like I can do much about it from here. Not like anyone would listen to a kid, anyways."

Hearing Zabini's words, Draco could almost feel a sense of kinship with him.

"I'm sorry," said Draco with a defeated air.

"Why?" said Zabini, eating another slice of apple, "Did you kill my stepdads?"

"No… What is the point of this story?"

"I saw that scorch mark on the carpet," said Zabini, "And I heard from Pansy about what happened with your father."

"So are you trying to tell me it'll get better?" hisses Draco, standing up and starting to pace furiously, "Because at the moment it feels like shit getting heaped on top of shit. First, my Father comes into school and literally burns my stuff in front of me, then I guess Pansy has been lying to me the entire time I've known her, and now- I really don't see how this will get better."

"It won't," said Zabini, "My mum will continue to marry and kill her husbands, and get away with it. Your dad will continue to be a raging douche, and Pansy will likely always be a manipulative harpy."

"Then what is the-"

"What I'm trying to say, Draco, is that you're not alone." In one fluid motion, Zabini stood up, light from the glowing crystals illuminating him from behind. He took Draco's hand and pulled him close, then he planted a chaste kiss that tasted like apples on Draco's lips."I know, at least on some scale, what you're going through."

Time, it seemed, stopped for a moment, and Draco could feel the nerves in his hand's tingle, and his toes curl inward.

"I'm getting a bit tired. I'll see you later," said Zabini, pulling away.

_What? He just drops a bomb like this, kisses me and leaves? No. I will not stand for this._

"Blaise," said Draco, his throat feeling hoarse. When Zab- no, Blaise looked back at him with mild surprise, Draco grabbed his collar and pulled him back down into another, harder kiss. _This feels good. I need it. Everyone is lying to me. I don't know who I can trust, or even if I can trust Blaise. But I need this. I want this._

There in the darkened crystal-lit corridor, Draco could forget that Astoria didn't want him, or that Pansy was a liar, or that his father was a liar too, who also covered up a murder.

Draco could just be himself, Draco.

Blaise's hand krept around the small of his back, pulling Draco closer. Then, Draco pulled back to take a breath of air, glancing for a moment at the crystal lights, and feel his nerves igniting with some untold energy-

_Oh-_

_OH! I'VE GOT IT!_

"Blaise!" said Draco excitedly, pulling away and pushing Blaise back. "Blaise, I've got it!"

"Wha-?"

"You're a genius!" said Draco, planting another kiss on Blaise's lips. "Simply genius!"

"Glad to be of help?" Blaise sent him a confused look, which Draco simply ignored. "Can I ask what I helped with?"

"Energy!" exclaimed Draco, "Magic is just a type of energy! Think of broomsticks; they fly great for a few years, but as they get older they slow down because the spells are fading. There wasn't enough energy in the spell! I just need to figure out a way to get more energy! I have to go! Thank you for the dance and the talk, it helped a lot!"

With that, Draco bounded out of the dungeon in a beeline for his hidden room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) Not a real book. Maybe. Who knows, there are a lot of chemistry books out there. But this is just a title I made up off the top of my head.
> 
> (**) Thallium is incredibly toxic. Please don't handle the stuff. It will kill you.
> 
> Bit of an emotional chapter, but I tried to end it on a happy-ish note. 
> 
> One more note, the 2 in E=mc2 is supposed to be small and floating above the c. It didn't stay when I uploaded it. Just pretend it's smaller and floating.


	13. AKA Enemy of my Enemy

_There was a string quartet in the parlor. The music was loud, but it was energetic, and best of all, Mummy was dancing and laughing and smiling. She never smiled anymore. She looked beautiful, even if her greasy-haired partner didn't, with her long blonde hair flowing down her back as the greasy-haired man swung her around. Daddy was in the corner chatting with someone who looked Very Important and was wearing a lime-green bowling hat._

_Towards the buffet table, where Dobby was carefully setting out more food, a tiny, pretty woman with honey-colored hair was watching Daddy suspiciously, as she slowly drank a glass of wine. She squinted her eyes, then ducked into the hallway where Guests Were Not Supposed to Go, and started towards Daddy's office. This alarmed Draco._ What if she's a thief? I have to do something!

_Worried that Daddy would get angry at him for interrupting, Draco decided to investigate for himself. After all, he had just turned four. Surely he was old enough to defend his house from filthy pilferers! He quickly ducked into the Forbidden Hallway while no one was looking, and looked for the honey-haired woman who, as predicted, was in Daddy's office._

_Draco stayed very quiet as he watched the woman rudely rifle through Daddy's things, peering behind old brass telescopes, or odd gadgets, looking more and more frustrated as she did so. Then, she spotted him out of the corner of her eyes and gave a tiny squeak._

_"Oh, my!" said the honey-haired woman, "How long have you been there, little one?"_

_Draco said nothing, just glared and pouted. The honey-haired woman turned a little pink._

_"You're Draco, right?" she said, "I'll bet you are. Pansy talks about you all the time."_

Pansy? _Hearing her name, Draco immediately perked up, something the woman seemed to sense. She smiled kindly._

_"I'm Marigold, Pansy's aunt." Marigold nodded around the room. She crouched down, then put her hand by her mouth like she was telling a secret, "You caught me- terminal snooper, I suppose. I was looking for a bathroom and got a little lost, and then a little distracted. I'm very sorry. Your house is just so big."_

_Draco nodded. The house was big._

_"I'll bet you get lonely, don't you? I know Pansy does. Maybe I should start bringing her over when Lucius calls for his meetings, and you can play more. Nott has a kid about your age, as well as Crabbe and Goyle. Hmm, and the Patils have twins. We could have little play dates, I suppose." Marigold drifted off slightly, her tone getting grimmer, then her head shot up as footsteps sounded in the hallway._

_"Draco!" Daddy's voice boomed down the hallway._

_"Lucius can't find me in here," said Marigold quickly, sounding scared, "Can I trust you to keep my secret?"_

_Draco nodded quickly. Pansy was his friend, and he loved her. So that must mean that Marigold was his friend, too, even if she was a little suspicious._

_"Draco?" said Daddy, poking his head into the office just as Marigold silently ducked down behind the large mahogany desk. "There you are. You had your mother and I worried sick! You can't just disappear like that."_

_"I'm sorry," said Draco, feeling an urge to cry. It wasn't his fault. Marigold looked suspicious._

_Daddy's face tightened, but he just gave a deep sigh. "It's okay," said Daddy, smoothing Draco's hair back. "But don't disappear like that again. You're too young to be running off on your own."_

_"I didn't want to interrupt you," said Draco, feeling proud at his words coming out without too much trouble._

_"Ah," said Daddy, "Well, that was good of you, I suppose. It was a vital conversation with the minister. But next time, bring someone with you."_

_"Why?"_

_"Why was I speaking to him?" said Daddy, looking a little unsure. When Draco nodded, he continued, "Well… I did some things that weren't quite appropriate. Through no fault of my own, of course."_

_"Why?"_

_"Well, I was trying to do what was right for our family."_

_"Why?"_

_Daddy made a small, slightly anxious cough as Draco stared at him with big searching eyes, "Well," said Daddy, "You know how there was recently a war?" When Draco nodded, Daddy continued, "Well, I was on the losing side."_

_"Why?"_

_"Draco," said Daddy in the tired way he did whenever Draco asked too many questions, "Now is not the time to play the 'Why Game'."_

_"But_ why?" _said Draco, wanting to understand the cryptic words._

_Daddy thought for a long time, gazing around the room with all it's beautiful possessions, "Because he promised our people prosperity," said Daddy, picking up Draco to go back to the party, "Now... Now we have to hope for the best."_

_"Why?" said Draco, sensing that Daddy was getting distressed, but wanting to know more._

_"Because there is a very, very Bad Place that we send criminals to, and there are people who want to send me there," said Daddy, plastering a grin that was far too wide over his face. He cleared his throat once again, then flung Draco over his shoulder before leading him out of the room in time for Draco to see Marigold poking her head out behind the desk. Daddy's back was turned and didn't see her. "But don't you worry. That's why Mummy and- and Daddy-" Daddy's tone faltered as if he were having trouble saying the word, "-Are having this party. So long as I can make Minister Fudge my friend, I can delay the trial long enough to ensure that Moody doesn't have a shred of evidence against me..."_

_"So you won't go to the Bad Place?" said Draco feeling a bit scared that Daddy might leave._

_"I promise you, Draco," said Daddy, planting a kiss on Draco's cheek as they re-entered the parlor and cutting the tension, making Draco giggle, "I will never leave you, or your mother. I love you too much."_

**Chapter Thirteen: In Which Draco Drinks Some Tea**

There was no fact more evident to Draco that mathematics and chemistry were the great uniters between the magical and wizarding worlds. The more he studied Alchemy, the more he discovered how many similarities there were between the two worlds. They were honest and real in a world that Draco was learning was full of lies and schemes. It was complicated but elegant and almost tamed a word that felt like it was spinning out of control.

 _But if they were the uniters that brought magic and the mundane together, then Alchemy was the unholy lovechild the two of them made._ That thought alone had Draco rabbit trailing like a mad-man on Christmas morning as Draco ate his breakfast. _Muggles eat porridge too. But we use magic to send it up from the kitchens, and they don't. But it's still porridge. It hasn't been changed or anything!_

Or had it?

_It's 'Apparated' ish… But does Apparition change the molecules? You must be the same person when you come back. You must be. After all, the porridge tastes like the usual porridge that I have back at home, and that doesn't go through some weird magical portal. Dobby just carried it in-_

Dobby.

In the last four days since the Yule Ball, Draco had gone back to the kitchens five times. Each time, Dobby was gone. Draco expected it, and he couldn't blame the elf, but it still hurt. It was another relationship gone and ruined, in tatters that would likely never mend.

"Merry Christmas!"

With a thump and a soft giggle, Astoria sat next to Draco and held out a small green box wrapped in a red velvet ribbon.

"Thanks!" said Draco with perhaps more enthusiasm than necessary to hide his upset and took the present and fiddled with the bow as Astoria took a glittery stuffed unicorn out of a new book bag.

"Mummy and Daddy got me a new bag, and Daphne got me the cutest little unicorn stuffie, and it walks around and sings-"

"Oh cool, how does it do that?"

 _Wonder if I could apply the charm to a muggle contraption. Or would that be too, I dunno… Weasley of me? Those muggle contraptions use metal wiring to run the electricity through them. I wonder if I could use that to get more energy for my Alchemy spells._ Draco mused once again, ignoring his present for the frankly horrific abomination of glitter and sparkles. _That would piss Father off if he found out. He hasn't said anything about Blaise and me yet…_

"Oh, mail post!" Astoria chirped.

S _peak of the Devil, and he shall come._ Thought Draco as he spied a team of three Eagle owls swoop down with a package and large vellum letter. Across the Great Hall, Weasley#6 eyed him jealously, while Potter and Granger looked mostly curious.

"You should look at mine first," said Astoria, grinning and giving the owls a few bites of her breakfast before it flew off.

"Pushy," said Draco, "But okay,"

Inside the box was a leatherbound journal and a lovely new quill.

"You've been reading all those journals in the muggle studies section, so I thought I'd get you a journal, and you could write your own to leave for other dissenting pureblooded teenagers," said Astoria before filling a bowl with fruit. "Also, is that _plain_ porridge? Ugh, no wonder you used to bully people. You don't put any milk, or love in your porridge."

"'Stori…" said Draco, not sure what to say as he examined the blank journal. He held out a small box for her, which she grabbed. Inside was an old jeweled bracelet.

"I'm not good at giving presents," said Draco, observing as Astoria studied the bracelet. "Uhm, but it belonged to my paternal grandmother, and when she died she left her entire jewelry collection to me-"

"Why? Do you wear jewelry?"

"No..." Draco shook his head vehemently and continued, "No, but Mother had been eyeing it ever since the Healers told my Grandmother she was terminal. Anyways, Grandmother _hated_ Mother. So, before she died, she enchanted her entire jewelry collection to leave ink stains on anyone who wore it without the proper owner's permission."

Astoria's eyes bugged out, and a wicked grin plastered itself over her face, "Nice! Cranky jewelry, I love it! Besides, now I won't have to worry about it getting stolen- or at least, not without retribution."

She started putting it on then paused, "It's going to recognize me as the proper owner, right? And did you never give the jewelry to your mother?"

"It's a Christmas present, so it should recognize you," said Draco, "And do I look like I want my grandmother's ghost to come back and haunt me? If you thought my father was mean, you should have seen her. At least Father is nice as long as you don't provoke him. Grandmother was just mean."

Astoria nodded, then held out her wrist for Draco to clasp the band, "Let's see what your parents got you!"

Draco nodded but opened the letter first while Astoria tore open the box, pulling out a box of Christmas chocolates. She dug through the box some more, then gasped, "Oh, my God!"

_Draco,_

_I had hoped that over these last few weeks, you've put in serious thought to your behavior and your studies. I have been in correspondence with your teachers, and I believe you have, considering the improvement in your grades._

_I have also learned that you have developed an interest in Alchemy. For this, both your mother and I could not be prouder. Alchemy is a noble and respected field. If you can keep your grades up, and with your name as a Malfoy, I know that you can go far. However, I must warn you; in recent years, Alchemy has become riddled with buffoons who apply their work to muggle contraptions and even use research from the muggle world._

_Our way, the way of proper wizards, does not involve muggle malarky._

_You are an intelligent boy, so I know that you are aware of this. As such, in case Hogwarts has lacking materials on proper Alchemical research, I have included some in your gift. Please let me know if you need anything further._

_Love,_

_Father_

Draco scowled, then tossed the letter aside. _He knows the way he acted was unacceptable. But of course, he can't bring himself to apologize or admit fault. So he's giving me what I want instead of just saying sorry._

Underneath his father's neatly written letter was another piece of parchment. This one had handwriting that appeared scribbled, and barely legible. It was his mother's handwriting, and perhaps the only indelicate thing about her.

_Draco,_

_I'm so proud of you! I can't begin to explain how excited I am! Lucius tells me you're studying Alchemy, so we got you a few things._

_Please remember not to overeat on chocolate- it makes you hyper. And I sent a new sweater, just in case you've already outgrown all of yours. Your father and I also included a little gift for the Zabini boy, (Lucius was speaking with Mr. Bagman the other day at the Ministry, and heard about you two!) The Zabini family has some critical connections in the ministry. You two becoming so close is excellent news indeed. Your father seems pleased, too. He was singing the other day. Singing! I felt like I was on my honeymoon again!_

_I love you, and I miss you so much. Please write to me more- I hate to hear second hand about your first romance. But if you two are still together come Easter, we would be thrilled to have you come home, and perhaps meet him in person._

_Love, Mother_

Next to his mother's name was a small drawing of a Narcissus flower. Despite her handwriting, which barely passed for chicken scratch, art was something she had a talent for. Draco grinned, happy that his relationship with Blaise was something he didn't have to hide, at least.

"Draco! Look at this!" said Astoria digging out other items from the box. He stood up and peered inside. Nestled in lots of paper was a beautiful bronze microscope. Draco pulled it out, slightly awed. The dials turned, and tiny little runes inscribed in the metal glowed as the mechanics moved.

"Stunning!" said a voice from behind him. It was Dumbledore, dressed in green and red robes that Draco could only describe as 'festive,' "I see that Mr. Malfoy has decided to support your extracurricular activities,"

"Er…" Draco paused, unsure of what to say. His father was supporting his journey into Alchemy, but only because he didn't know how much muggle research Draco was conducting.

"Either that or Mr. Malfoy has not studied the history of Optics…" said Dumbledore a bit more seriously. He then clapped his hands together and said, "Ah, well! Merry Christmas, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Greengrass. Oh, and I see that Mr. Zabini has come down to wish you a Merry Christmas as well!"

With that, Dumbledore walked away towards the high table, whistling under his breath, and with what Draco could only describe as a skip in his feet. _Mad_ , he thought as Blaise sat down next to him, landing a peck on his cheek.

"Merry Christmas," said Blaise, "Sorry to say your gift is not up to boyfriends standards, but in my defense, we only started this… whatever it was four days ago." He gave Draco a small box that contained a broom servicing kit and some chocolate frogs, and Draco gave him a crystal chess set, as well as a chocolate reindeer that his parents sent.

"So… boyfriends?" said Draco nervously, as Blaise watched the chocolate reindeer trot around the table, and Astoria started chatting with another second-year girl, "Is that what we are?"

Blaise shrugged, "I guess. I mean, do you want to keep snogging?"

"Sure," said Draco, coughing and feeling himself turn pink as he opened his chocolate frog and found a picture of Dumbledore. _Damn, why does it have to be pink? At least when Weasley blushes, it's manly and red. Even Father turns red. But no, I have to take after my Mother and turn pink._

"You're blushing," teased Blaise, leaning over and poking Draco's cheek.

"I am not blushing," said Draco, reading the Dumbledore entry. _Found twelve uses for Dragon's Blood… Wonder how much magical energy I could get from Dragon's Blood. Supposedly, blood holds a ton of magic._ "And you would do well not to poke me. I may be forced to bite-"

"NO!"

From down the Slytherin table, there was a loud crash as Crabbe, who was sitting next to Pansy, pushed Pansy from her seat, where her tiny frame practically flew backward. Her head collided with the Gryffindor bench behind her with a sickening crack, then Crabbe ran out the Great Hall, with Goyle following close behind him. Seeing the commotion, Snape started to descend from the high table and knelt next to Pansy, who was moving and sitting up with the Weasley twin's help, but she held the back of her head while wincing in pain. Draco resisted the urge to run up next to her as he told himself he didn't care. He still wanted nothing to do with either Crabbe, or Pansy, or Goyle.

"I'm fine," said Pansy, holding the back of her head, "It's not Vincent's fault. He's thick. He's just worked up because Draco's been ignoring him, and he thinks he's being replaced. I tried telling him-"

"I still want you to go to the Hospital Wing," said Snape, "Miss Bulstrode, make sure Miss Parkinson makes it to the Hospital Wing. Miss Parkinson, if I don't receive a report from Madame Pomfrey, I will be escorting you there myself. Do you know where Mr. Crabbe might have gone?"

"No…" said Pansy, "He's been worked up since the Yule Ball. As I said, he thinks Draco's replacing him. Greg and I have been trying to calm him down, but-"

"That's enough, Miss Parkinson. I promise you; we'll find Mr. Crabbe." Dumbledore came down from the high table as well his festive robes glittering in the pale morning light. He motioned to Snape, and the two of them left through the double doors, presumably to find Crabbe and Goyle.

Pansy caught Draco staring as Millie tried leading her away as well, and glared before pulling away from Millie and marching towards him.

" _You need to talk to Vincent!_ " Pansy hissed in a low tone, taking Blaise's chocolate reindeer, and biting its head off before he could protest.

"That's mine-"

"Shut up," said Pansy, swallowing her chocolate, "It wasn't his fault, Draco. Be angry at me all you want, but at the very least, you need to forgive Vince."

"Yeah, well, why was he writing to my father?" snarled Draco, and guarding his presents. "He wrote to him-"

"Yeah, because I told him to. I convinced him it would be a good idea. He's thick! He didn't know better!"

"Well, I'm still angry at him, so go figure that out!"

"Then tell him that, you utter moron!" A single spider crawled out of Pansy's shirt and hopped onto Draco, where he flung it on the table in a panicked flourish. "He. Is. Thick. He doesn't understand why you're upset, and he's going to keep acting out like this until you spell it out for him. So _tell_ him. Let's go, Millie." Pansy swirled around, still holding Blaise's squirming, headless chocolate reindeer and left.

"Remind me why we're going to the Astronomy Tower," said Blaise as they climbed up the spiral staircase, bundled in their warmest cloaks. "It's freezing, and these steps are icy. Draco, we could play on that new chess set you got me. Or maybe I'll go challenge Weasley to a chess match."

"Because," said Draco, "I need to speak with Daphne." _And I don't want to speak to Crabbe._ "And if you want to go challenge Weaslebee then, by all means, go ahead. I do not feel threatened by him. Not when he's attached to Lavender Brown by the lips."

Blaise grumbled in response but continued up the icy steps until they arrived at the Astronomy tower, where they heard a loud crash from Sinistra's office. Astoria ran into the office, quickly followed by Blaise and Draco. Inside, they found an angry Daphne alone and surrounded by a dismantled telescope. Several magnets and copper wiring littered the space next to a fan-shaped object, made with the linen frames that Draco saw a few weeks before sticking out the window.

"Daphne," said Astoria, picking up a piece of the telescope whose parts littered the room. "What's wrong?"

"It's not working!" said Daphne angrily, "The telescope is supposed to create a three-dimensional image of the object you're looking at, but I don't have enough magical power to enchant it, and neither does Sinistra. So we were hoping to use electricity as a backup. But it's not converting! Ugh! Stupid-" Daphne made a strangled scream-like noise and continued to disassemble the telescope.

Draco picked up a bundle of copper wire, thinking it looked somewhat like a ball of yarn. _Something to convert it. Wonder if it would work as a wand would. Dragon's blood has a lot of magical uses, but that'd be tricky. We'd have to get a tank of it and dip the copper in the tank, maybe, but what about Dragon's Heartstring? Hmmm… no, that'd be a bit gory. What about…_ Draco glanced over at Astoria, who was holding the stuffed unicorn to Daphne, who took it with a grim smile. _Oh!_

"What about Unicorn hair?" said Draco, "I mean, it works for wands. It channels the magical energy through your body and directs it into the air or an object. Maybe if we bundled it up like the copper wiring, we could do some sort of weird conversion."

Daphne nodded, hugging the unicorn, but frowned, "Maybe… But where would we even get unicorn hair?"

"Mr. Hagrid might have some," said Blaise, fiddling with a couple of magnets, and grinning when they smacked together. "Nice! But I thought muggle stuff didn't work at Hogwarts."

"That's utter claptrap," said Daphne, snorting, "If electricity didn't work properly, we'd all be dead the moment we entered Hogwarts."

"But-"

"Draco, back me up," said Daphne irritably, while Draco coughed.

"Er, she's right, Blaise," said Draco. Blaise still looked confused.

"Can you elaborate?"

"We run on electricity." said Draco to Blaise, "Our brains, our nervous system… Do you know how if you don't eat enough salt, you don't feel good? Well, salt is an electrolyte. If you don't eat enough of it, your nerves don't function correctly. And I know that I get shocked from wool sweaters and other things. So electricity has to work in Hogwarts. If it didn't… nothing living would function properly."

Blaise nodded, though Draco didn't think he completely understood. "Great, then let's go see if we can't negotiate Mr. Hagrid out of some unicorn hair."

"You two go," said Daphne, "I need to start putting Clara back together. Astoria, would you mind helping me?"

"Wait, but-" started Draco, before Daphne cut him off.

"Blaise is eloquent enough, and in my experience, Mr. Hagrid has always been rather forgiving." said Daphne, "If you grovel hard enough, I'm certain he'd be willing to help us out. Especially if you mention that your father wouldn't approve of this."

"Maybe…" said Draco, but he still felt uncertain. _I was the main reason Buckbeak nearly got executed. Hell, I laughed about it. No wonder Granger decked me. No, I'm going to need something more than groveling. What does Hagrid like? He likes monsters… But I can't just dig up a beast for him, and I don't have any interesting information on monsters. He likes Potter, but Potter doesn't like me. But what if..._

"Blaise," said Draco, "Do you know any good spells for copying notes?"

"Ha!" said Blaise, his dark skin crinkling at his eyes as he laughed, "You're talking to the person who snuck into McGonagall's office to steal and copy the answer sheets for her written Transfiguration final in our third year. Of course, I know how to copy notes."

"Perfect!" said Draco, "We need to go to the library. Astoria, do you care if I use the journal you gave me? I don't have any empty ones currently on hand. They're all filled with-"

"Draco, it's yours, and its purpose is to be written in." said Astoria gathering up pieces of the dismantled telescope and waving him off, "Why would I care? Oh, also, leave your microscope here. I'll take it to the clubhouse later."

"Clubhouse? Okay..."

Once he carefully placed the microscope on Sinistra's desk, figuring he would ask Astoria where she took it later, Blaise grabbed his hand and started pulling him away and down the spiral staircase. He was silent for a good portion of the journey to the library, only speaking to say Merry Christmas to various portraits.

"Always good to be polite to them," said Blaise as they rounded a corner near the library. "My Mum has a couple of paintings who have portraits here. They hop around, and now and then gossip with her. Figure if they like me, they won't snitch."

Draco shivered and wondered if his father had any paintings who cohabitated portraits. _The walls don't just have ears- they have mouths and eyes too. Shit, what have I gotten myself into? Maybe Father doesn't care about Blaise, and he wants to encourage me with Alchemy, but what if he has a painting that spends time at Hogwarts? Or what if he starts talking to Blaise's mum, and she tells him something she heard from a painting here? I need to start being more careful. I can't bring my muggle books out of that hidden room. Or, if I do, I need to enchant the covers so that they look like wizard books._

Something on the stone floor hit Draco's foot, and he looked down. It was one of the toys he'd seen in Crabbe's chest a few weeks ago. Only now it was broken and lying in pieces on the floor. _Wonder what happened to it,_ thought Draco, bending over to pick it up. He put it in his bag and decided not to worry about it. There were other things to do.

Soon, the two of them arrived at the library, and Draco hunted down the journals that 'James Potter' wrote, leafing through them until he found the notes that were best put together. With Blaise's help, he had soon filled the leather-bound journal with pages of the notebooks which were useful or just plain funny; an exact copy of the notebook page appearing in Draco's journal where he jotted down the location of the book in the corner.

"So, I hate to open the proverbial can of worms…" said Blaise after about fifteen minutes of searching through pages and copying them, "But, earlier at breakfast, Pansy brought up that Crabbe thinks he's being replaced and…"

"You're wondering if I am using you like a replacement?"

"Well, no... " said Blaise slowly, "Maybe a little bit…"

"I'm not," said Draco, but mulling it over as he did indeed feel a little doubt. "It's more of… Never mind, it's stupid."

"I don't think it's stupid."

"You will," said Draco, chewing on his quill, "But fine… I just- Every time I go back to hanging out with Pansy, or with Crabbe and Goyle, I get sucked back into this cycle of hate, and anger, and I- I'm finally happy, and don't feel the need to belittle others just to make myself feel better. I'm just worried that I'll get sucked back into that cycle."

"Why would I think that's stupid?" said Blaise, peering at him curiously, "Draco, the entire reason I've only recently started hanging out with you is that you've finally gotten out of that mindset."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you were a giant prick. You scared both Theo and me off."

Draco groaned, leaning back in his chair, "And what if I get sucked back into that again? I've finally dug myself out,"

"Then I'll poke you until you start digging again," said Blaise, reaching over and poking Draco's cheek, "Or don't talk to Crabbe and don't risk anything."

Silence filled their table at the library for a few moments before Draco continued, "Does that mean you wouldn't judge me if I continued to avoid him?"

"Of course not. Did you see him fling Pansy earlier?" said Blaise, "However, I will point out that we share a dorm. You will eventually have to talk to him. You may as well get it over with. I'll even stick around to protect you."

"Thanks…"

"Hey," blurted Blaise, "For a change of subject, some of these broom diagrams look pretty cool. Do you think we could apply them? Maybe it'll finally give us an edge against Gryffindor- at least next year when Quidditch starts up again."

"Maybe," said Draco, grinning in excitement at the idea of using Potter's father's notes against him in Quidditch. _Somehow I doubt Potter would be able to understand any of this. Or if he does, the look on his face when we have the same thing, out of the blue, would be priceless!_

"Oh shit," said Blaise, suddenly flipping through journal pages, "Harry Potter's dad knew Sirius Black?"

Half an hour and several bouts of maniacal giggling later, the two finished filling in the journal. Braving the wind and snow, they bundled up in the cloaks once again and ventured out of the castle to Hagrids hut to deliver the journal, with the hopes of obtaining a source of unicorn hair in return.

 _But is that a sincere apology?_ Draco mused as he trudged through the snow, watching Blaise climb through it almost gracefully. _I can't just apologize, then expect the unicorn hair. It wouldn't be right, would it? Ugh, this is so confusing. With Astoria it's one thing- I never tried to get her pet killed. But Buckbeak did attack me! He was dangerous. But I was also being an ass. And I need the damn unicorn hair. I don't want to ask Father for it because then he'd want to know why I want it, and lying bodes the risk of Father investigating on his own and…_

 _This is exhausting…_ thought Draco, as they arrived at the hut, _I should just do it and get it over with._ Then, a thought occurred to Draco just as he was about to knock on Hagrid's door. _Oh no, Father is in correspondence with my teachers! Hagrid is my teacher! What if he tells Father something- not even on purpose, but by accident, and Father starts to dig and finds something out? This is not good, this is not good at all…_

SWOOSH

The doors of the hut opened as Draco's fist froze inches away from knocking while he had his momentary panic.

"Malfoy? Zabini?" said Hagrid, his massive frame standing over him like a great shadow, and his beady eyes squinting suspiciously. "Wha' do you wan'?"

"Er…"

Suddenly, Blaise elbowed him, "Draco, just ask him. The worst he can say is no."

Draco glanced at Blaise, then back at Hagrid, feeling the panic rising, "Well," managed Draco, "Mr. Hagrid, sir… Er- I've been doing some thinking…"

"Uh-huh," said Hagrid, then stepped back, "Why don' you two come in out of the cold. 'spect Lucius Malfoy would have my head if his son froze t' death on my fron' steps."

Hearing the words made Draco wince as he walked into the hut and sat down at a table in front of the fireplace where Hagrid brought out some tea and something that was probably supposed to be a form of cake. He chewed on it, glancing at balls of unicorn hair hanging from the ceiling, trying to buy himself some time as his heart pounded against his chest. _Get a grip, Draco. It's just an apology, not a life sentence… But that's what Father nearly got Hagrid in our second year, remember? He blamed him for all those petrifications when he was innocent. Hagrid is probably going to hate me regardless of what I say, considering he got framed. But who did-_

Something started tapping against the wooden table. It was Draco's finger. _According to Pansy, he covered up a murder. He tried to get Hagrid fired last year. He's almost certainly a Death Eater. What if… What if it was him that was responsible for the petrifications? But he wasn't here, that's silly. But that diary… It was evil. I'm certain of it. I was six, and I still remember that feeling in the basement. Like some sort of demon. And Father slipped it into Ginny Weasley's cauldron... If he did do it, that means he let Hagrid take the fall. He let him almost rot in Azkaban._

"Draco!" hissed Blaise, poking his ankle from under the table. "Darling, you're being rude. Thank you for the tea, Mr. Hagrid. It's delicious. What kind is it?"

"My special blend," said Hagrid, looking quite proud, "Got all sorts o' herbs. Some chamomile, bit o' dried blueberries, some white tea…"

"Well, I love it," said Blaise, letting Draco collect his thoughts.

"Er, Mr. Hagrid, I was wanting to…" Draco paused, "I'm sorry about what happened last year with Buckbeak. It was… It was wrong, and I know that now. And well, I wanted to make up for it. I didn't know what you liked, but I knew that you liked Potter, so I made this and I know it's not something that you might be able to use. Still, I figured you'd be able to say it's from you, and he'd believe it and-" The words started ramping up in speed as his anxiety grew, beginning to falter and fall over themselves. Blaise placed a hand on his shoulder and Draco stopped talking long enough to take a breath.

Draco was expecting Hagrid to get mad and kick him out. Instead, Hagrid grasped the journal, opened it, then gasped and covered his mouth.

"How…"

"I've been doing some independent research into Alchemy," said Draco, feeling a bit more confident, "And, it's forced me to delve into the muggle studies section more than once. I found a bunch of journals that someone named James Potter wrote with a Lily Evens; some of them had a couple of others as well… Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and even our old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Mr. Lupin, and- Oh, no… Uh… Mr. Hagrid?"

The half-giant was currently weeping as he flipped through the pages. Fat, heavy teardrops rolled down his face and onto the pages where they splattered against the parchment. Then, as he was crying, he started laughing as well, "Oh, I had forgotten how much of a riot those boys were…"

"They were friends?"

Hagrid nodded sadly, "All o' them. Well, Lily and James weren't quite friendly with each other until their Seventh Year. Between you an' me," said Hagrid laughter in his black beady eyes, "James was a bit o' a prat."

_A prat? A prat like me, or a prat like Potter?_

Hagrid pulled a blanket sized handkerchief out from his pocket and blew into it loudly. "Now, it sounds like you boys wanted to ask me something?"

"Right," said Draco, "Ahem, well, as I've been studying Alchemy, I've run into a problem where I don't have enough magical energy. Daphne Greengrass is having the same problem with a telescope she's building. We're trying to figure out a conversion method, and we think unicorn hair might be applicable."

"Conversion?"

"Daphne is building a muggle generator to gather electricity. We think we could use unicorn hair to convert it into magic," said Draco.

"Playing with muggle things…" said Hagrid, "Ol' Lucius Malfoy's not gonna like that. You gonna be okay?"

 _Will I be okay?_ Draco bit the inside of his cheek. It was oddly comforting, knowing that the massive half-giant seemed to want to look out for him. "I…" Draco glanced at Blaise, who smiled and grasped his hand, "I think so, yes. So long as Father doesn't find out."

"O' course," Hagrid winked, then stood up. He pulled a ball of silvery unicorn hair from the ceiling and handed it to Draco. "Here," said Hagrid, "The poor unicorns get their tails caught on branches and whatnot. I find the hairs hanging off o' bushes and trees while out in the Forbidden Forest."

Draco nodded, and pulled out some coins, "How much would you want for it?" Seven Galleons for an ounce of unicorn hair was typically the norm **(*)** , but considering their history, he was expecting to pay more. _Three and a half years of allowance and birthdays and Christmases saved up, minus all those muggle books I bought... I still have at least a thousand Galleons stowed away. I'm not too worried. But I can't be wasting it all on something I don't even know will work. Sooner, rather than later, I need to build a budget._

"Er…" Hagrid paused and looked confused, "Well…"

Draco fingered the coins nervously, while Hagrid smiled kindly and placed the ball of hair in his hands, then took a few sickles. "Well, it's pro'ly not the best quality, so let's just call this good," said Hagrid, "Bu' I expect to see these inventions when you're done."

"Of course," said Draco, "Actually, if you go into Professor Sinistra's office you can see Daphne's right now," Blaise cleared his throat, "Though it's… sort of in pieces at the moment. She had a bit of a tit when it wouldn't work."

"Ah, well tha's too bad," said Hagrid, nodding and leaning back while he sipped his tea. The three continued to drink their tea, with Draco soon finding why Potter seemed to like the half-giant so much. He was warm and inviting. Where Draco's mansion was large, it was also cold, and somewhat empty; Hagrid's hut was cramped, but it gave off an attractive charm. He got lost in conversation, and before he knew it, it was getting dark.

"You bes' be off," said Hagrid, "Don' want ya t' freeze t' death out there."

Blaise bundled up in his cloak and started to walk off. Draco lingered at the door.

"Mr. Hagrid…" said Draco, unsure of where to start, "I need to ask… My second year, when there were all those petrifications…"

Hagrid's face darkened, but he didn't stop Draco.

"Is there… Did my father have anything to do with it?"

Hagrid's silence was all the answer Draco needed. _He did... That diary let something loose in the school, and it nearly killed five students- one of which wasn't even muggle-born. Back then, I thought it was funny. Now, I don't know. What if it had killed me? Did he ever think about that? Or was he just too consumed by hate to care?_

Fifty yards down, Blaise stopped walking and turned around to wait.

"Right… I should get going," said Draco, managing to give a shuddering nervous sort of laugh to break the overbearing silence. He coughed awkwardly, "Seriously, please don't tell Potter that I made that. He'd probably lord it over me about how much better his father is than mine."

"Oh, I don' think he'd do tha'..." said Hagrid, but nodded. Draco then adjusted his cloak and set off with Blaise for the castle.

There were still a few hours till dinner, so the two of them decided to head towards the common room. The dungeons were dark and no longer lit by strings of tiny crystals. Instead, torches once again lit the low sloping ceilings. Once they reached the Common Room, Draco found Pansy sitting with Crabbe and Goyle by the fire, with her feet up over Crabbe's lap. Draco pulled the broken toy out of his satchel, then tapped it with his wand while muttering _Reparo_.

 _Crabbe's family never spends money on him. The only place this toy would have come from is my father. Maybe he thought he could get love from him. Yet another damn person he's hurt. And now, I'm avoiding Crabbe and adding to this vicious cycle. He can't keep getting away with this._ Draco settled down next to Crabbe, then handed him the toy as anger boiled away inside him. "Here,"

Crabbe took it, avoiding Draco's gaze, while Goyle watched closely. Blaise went to sit by Astoria, who was coloring some parchment at one of the tables.

"I was angry at you," said Draco, "I found the letter Father sent you, and I was upset because you went behind my back and tattled on me."

"I'm sorry," said Crabbe, "I didn't think he'd come to Hogwarts. I thought he'd just send you an angry letter, or ignore you, like my parents."

"Me too," said Pansy softly, "I got scared. I was helping Lavender and Parvati, and risking my relationship I'd built with Mr. Malfoy. I thought if you went full muggle lover, than that connection would be lost and I'd never find proof that Mr. Malfoy-"

Draco silenced Pansy with a glare, glancing around the common room. A few students were watching them. "Not here," whispered Draco, _Who knows who is listening,_ "I'm sorry too, Crabbe. I should have come to you directly. Listen, I want to stay friends, but at the same time, I don't want to be a bully. So if we're going to stay friends, we can't be bullies."

"Does that mean we can't pick on Longbottom anymore?" said Crabbe, fiddling with the toy.

"Yes," said Draco, "And no one else." He paused, then continued, "Why did we always pick on him anyways?"

Crabbe shrugged, "I don't like him,"

"Why not?"

"Because!" said Crabbe angrily, rocking a bit and holding rolling his large fingers into a tight fist. "He's stupid too, but everyone likes him. Why should the teachers like him and not me? I'm bad at magic, too, but they hate me!"

Pansy sniffed, "You're not stupid, Crabbe,"

"I'm not?"

"No!" Pansy sat up, "Remember when we were learning heating charms? You made the best ones. Even better than me, and you know, that's hard to do."

"I do like fire…" Crabbe smiled, "But how do we not bully?"

Goyle grunted in agreement, while Draco pondered the question. For him, Astoria and Daphne had helped. Being with them made him happy. _Maybe Crabbe and Goyle aren't happy, and that's why they bullied. They wanted everyone to be as equally miserable._

"Maybe you could try doing something nice for Longbottom, instead of being mean to him?" said Draco, realizing how obvious it seemed once spoken aloud. _Making something might help make them happy. At the very least, it'll distract them._

"Like what?" said Crabbe. He fiddled with the toy some more, still not looking directly at Draco.

"We could make something for those dumb plants of his," said Goyle.

"Yeah… But what?" Crabbe nodded, squinting hard in thought. Draco grinned, then motioned to Pansy to follow him.

"Right, well, Crabbe, Goyle, I need to discuss some things with Pansy, Blaise, and Astoria." said Draco, "Why not you two drum up some plans, and I'll help you with it once you know what you're doing?"

"Really?" said Goyle a bit suspiciously.

"Of course," said Draco, "As an offer of peace between us."

The two of them grunted in acknowledgment, then put their heads together as they started working on their plans. Draco stood up off the couch and gathered up Pansy and Blaise, then Astoria, who bundled up her colored pieces of parchment before leading them out of the common room. _I don't know if I can trust Pansy, but she wants my father in Azkaban just as much as I do, if not more. I may not be able to trust her as a friend anymore, but I can at least trust her to be my ally._ Once they arrived at the hidden room he found with Astoria, he opened the secret entrance and let them in, finding the new microscope he had gotten for Christmas. _Ah, so that's what she meant by 'clubhouse'._ But the Microscope wasn't the only new addition to the room.

Posters had been hung along the wall, as well as several pieces of colored parchment with what looked like element symbols written on them. Strung along the walls were the crystal lights that had been hung around the dungeons just a few days ago. Astoria grinned, "There were going to be taken down in a few days, so Daphne and I decided to nick them and string them up here. Less dangerous than the jars of fire, don't you think? Prettier too."

"This place is cool!" said Blaise, lounging on an armchair while Pansy perched herself on the armrest. "Don't you think it's cool, Pansy?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes," said Pansy disinterestedly, "Now, Draco, I'm assuming that you've finally decided to help me put your father away in Azkaban where he belongs, yes?" She looked at Blaise, "I'm assuming that Draco is going to tell you anything not discussed here anyways since you two are snogging, right?"

"Yes," said Draco, slamming his hand down on the table, "Also, you don't seem all that surprised to be here,"

"What?" said Pansy, fluttering her eyes, "Pfft.." When the rest of the room started staring, she shrugged, "Granger likes to gossip, surprisingly. Once you get her talking, she _never_ stops."

"Why would-"

"Something about a map? I guess your name disappeared, and it was suspicious? _Anyways_ , Potter, Weasley, and Granger investigated, and they found this place." Pansy shrugged and chewed on her thumbnail.

"Is nothing sacred?" said Draco, scowling before lying on the couch.

"I mean, it's not like they were trespassing." said Pansy, "There aren't any school rules that say this place is off-limits."

"It's hidden!"

"Yeah, and it was also hidden from you, and you found it,"

"Whatever," said Draco, rolling his eyes and making a mental note to try and set wards that would keep unwanted visitors out. _Those tend to be fairly high level, though._ "As for my father, yes. I want to put him in Azkaban, but not for what he did to your aunt,"

" _What_?" snarled Pansy, standing up and striding towards Draco as Astoria tried to get between them, "I have been working on this for the last NINE YEARS-"

"I'm not opposed to putting him in Azkaban, but I don't think we'll find anything proving what he did to your aunt. If you had found anything incriminating, you would have found it by now! What do you even have?"

Pansy stopped, then turned away with a hard glare set in her eyes. "Just the memory of that night. Daddy... Daddy pulled it from my head, and now and then I sneak into his office to watch it." Her eyes darkened, "I was in Theo's room on the second floor of their family manor, and we were playing with a train set of his, and then...

"' _Where's the memory? Where is it?_ ' Mr. Nott started screaming at Mrs. Nott. It was… I can't even begin to tell you how cold my blood ran when I heard him yelling. I'd never heard anyone yell like that- I didn't think it was possible. The air itself almost stilled, and I was so scared I felt sick.

"Mrs. Nott started pleading with Mr. Nott, ' _Please, Tobias, I didn't take anything!'_

"' _It was either you or Marigold!_ ' Something pounded and crashed, and then Theo ran out of the room. I don't know if Mr. Nott knew he was watching or not, but then he started yelling again while Mrs. Nott was crying, ' _Where is it? Do you have any idea what will happen to me, to our family, if the Aurors get a hold of that memory? They've been looking for anything that dismantles our defense for the last THREE YEARS! It doesn't just incriminate Lucius Malfoy, it exposes all of us! Marigold included!_ '"

Pansy sat down next to Blaise on his armchairs armrest. She was glaring at the wall behind Draco, and he wondered just what could be in that memory.

"The last bit I heard was Mrs. Nott shrieking, and then there were several loud thumps. Then, there was silence until Theo started wailing from down the hallway. I couldn't move, I was too scared, but Theo kept crying, and I could hear Mr. Nott talking to him, so I decided to come out. Theo was at the top of the staircase, Mr. Nott was holding his shoulders and kept shaking him, and I looked over and... Mrs. Nott was at the bottom of the staircase, dead, with a puddle of blood pooling around her head. Next thing I knew, Mr. Nott had locked Theo in his room and took me to your house."

A heavy silence filled the room until Draco broke it several moments later, "Do you… do you have any idea what's in the memory, or where it is?"

"None," said Pansy, shaking her head, "But the Aurors didn't get it. From what I can guess, Aunt Marigold was going to serve as a witness against your father, and use the memory to help them tie their case together. I think Malfoy was holding onto it as some sort of… I dunno, 'you betray me, and you'll go down with me' type deal. Azkaban is terrifying enough to deter any sort of dissent in that sort of situation, I suppose."

"But what could be bad enough that she would voluntarily go to Azkaban if she was exposed along with him?" Blaise interjected.

"It doesn't matter." said Draco, "Obviously, Father found the memory, and did something to her to keep her from ever speaking again. And then he either hid it well enough so that no one would ever find it again, or he destroyed it. Either way, it's been almost nine years. We're never going to find it, so we should focus our sights on something that'll still get him sent to Azkaban."

"What do you mean?" said Pansy, looking a bit miffed, but intrigued at the same time.

"I think, no, I'm certain," said Draco forcefully, "That Father had something to do with the petrifications that happened in our Second Year. If we can prove that, we can get him sent to Azkaban."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) So Slughorn says that it's seven galleons per hair in the half-blood prince, but I refuse to believe it's that outrageous. Plus, he was also drunk. So I'm saying it's seven galleons an ounce, which is still ridiculous, but a little more reasonable considering it's still a rare ingredient. (A galleon is roughly five us dollars, so seven gallons would be roughly 35$ an ounce. Less than weed, though.)


	14. AKA Run Boy Run

**Chapter 14: In Which Pansy Haggles**

It was odd, but Lavender found that the end of December was far warmer than the beginning. It was as if Christmas brought with it a spurt of mild air that melted the snow and brought with it a few sun breaks throughout the day. It was the perfect opportunity to venture out of the common room and onto the castle grounds to do a bit jogging with Ron, who seemed eager to accompany her. 

With an almost euphoric glee, she raced towards the Black Lake, enjoying the damp air filling her lungs. A few bluejays in the courtyard darted about, seemingly delighting in the mild weather as well. Before they left, she felt Ron grab her around the waist and twirl her about, laughing as she shrieked. 

“Arsehole!” said Lavender, laughing once on put her down. She grinned and kissed him, feeling him lean into the kiss, then deepen it. She pulled away, “We can finish this later. Right now we should go run,” 

“Are you sure we can’t just stay here and hang out?” Ron pulled her closer, “I can make it worth your while,” 

Lavender shook her head and pulled away. “I wasn’t quick enough. The Horntail nearly got me because I wasn’t fucking quick enough. If I'm going to survive, I need to adapt.”  _ If these visions are real, I don't know if I can beat them. But I'm not rolling over without a fight.  _

Ron kissed her cheek, “Running it is, then,” He bounced on a leg, “Bet you a sickle I can beat you to the lake,” He winked, then took off, leaving Lavender a bit gobsmacked before she raced after him. 

“No fair! You didn’t give me enough warning!” Lavender shrilled as her feet pounded the ground. With a steady beat, her Adder Stone necklace bounced against her chest. Blood pounded in her ears, and she raced as fast as she could, but Ron was inevitably faster than her, and he sent her a cheeky grin as he ran along the small waves of the Black Lake. 

“Got five brothers, and Harry walks like Death is on his heels,” said Ron, “You learn to be fast with them!” 

Lavender’s heart pounded against her chest with the excursion, but she kept it up, running with Ron until she could feel her lungs screaming at her to stop. It was then that he stopped, collapsing with her on the ground. They lay next to each other for a few moments as they caught their breath. 

Above them, light storm clouds passed overhead, casting a grey haze over the midday sun. Near the lake, they could hear the sound of several students laughing and chatting. Lavender ignored it in favor of staring at Ron, who was watching a few large gray storm clouds gather in the sky. 

She gasped his hand tightly, feeling him massage her hand through her purple gloves. For the first time in weeks, her legs felt somewhat warm, and she wondered if the running had helped at all.  _ I should keep at it. Didn’t I use to skip through the school? Maybe when the snow returns, I can keep doing something like that. Oh, but what if someone sees? It might look weird.  _ For a moment, the image of Snape seeing her skipping through the halls entered her head, and a small laugh bubbled up.  _ No, I'll look them in the eye and keep skipping. Just act confident, and it won't matter. _

“Draco, come see this!” 

Upon hearing Draco Malfoy’s name, the peace broke. Ron sat up next to her with a scowl painted on his face. 

“What’s that snake up to?” said Ron suspiciously. 

“Didn’t he have some sort of hidden room filled with muggle stuff?” Lavender sat up as well, peering down at the lake. 

“Yeah,” said Ron, “Harry, Hermione and I checked it out,” 

“Isn’t that- I dunno, good?” 

Ron made a face, “I suppose. But it’s suspicious. And he’s walking around looking all twitchy like he's guilty of something. Harry is certain he’s up to something.” 

“What do you think?”

Ron was quiet for a moment. He seemed on the fence about how he would answer, then he said, “It doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does,”

“But it won’t change how Harry thinks. Trust me on this.”

Lavender glanced at Draco, who was crouching around what looked like a mass of seaweed with a few other students and examining it. Once they finished, Draco took a few clippings and stuck them in a container, as well as a jar of scummy looking lake water. A tiny girl she recognized as Astoria Greengrass was with him, carrying a few more jars and containers. Taking up the rear was a tall black boy who was in her year. 

“Blaise Zabini,” said Ron, “He’s in the chess club,” 

“Are you in the chess club?” 

“No,” said Ron, making another face, “Why would I want to hang out with those nerds?” 

“Oh?” 

“Just because I beat all of them in my first year, and made a big fuss about it; apparently I didn't understand the meaning of the word ‘sportsmanship’.”

Soon, Malfoy’s group wandered off. Ron took the chance and ran down to look at the seaweed, which they found was covered in a thin layer of steaming, mucus-like film. 

“Do you know what it is?” said Lavender, poking it with a stick, suppressing a shudder when it made an odd squelching sound. 

“Algae, think. I'd be careful with it. That mucus gets hot. I'm pretty sure it's technically a type of fire-wraith, or something.” 

“Really?” 

"They like damp, moist environments and my family's home is on a bogland. We get infestations of it every year. Dad calls it Devils-Snot,” Ron crouched down, using a stick to grab some of the slimy seaweed and place it on a handkerchief. “We should take it to Neville. He was going on and on about herbology stuff the other day. He might know what Malfoy is using for. Race you there?” 

“Double or nothing!” 

By the time they reached the castle, Lavender owed Ron two sickles. Ron took great pride in this, demonstrated by him running towards the greenhouses with his hands in the air, as Lavender lagged behind him, shrieking laughter and nursing a stitch in her side. Despite the loss, she couldn’t help but still feel elated as she ran into the greenhouses clutching the handkerchief filled with seaweed.

While the air outside was mild, it was still quite cold compared to the castle greenhouses. Inside the greenhouses, however, the air was hot and humid, with beads of water clinging to the cold windows. High walls of ivy hung down, and fragrant flowers blossomed in rows of terracotta pots atop tables. Down the isles, she could see Neville Longbottom tending to a tank of green water filled with seaweed with roots that looked like rat-tails. 

_ Ew,  _ Lavender shuddered,  _ Why, why, why does everything have to be  _ rats.  _ Doesn't the universe have anything else to choose? _ “Hey Neville!” said Lavender cheerfully, and feeling a bit bad when he jumped nearly a foot in the air. 

“Uh… Hi,” said Neville, glancing at her and Ron a bit nervously, “Do you guys come into the greenhouses often?” 

“No…” Lavender coughed, then held out the snotty handkerchief, “Do you know what this is used for? The algae, I mean.” 

Neville looked a bit like a startled deer, but gingerly took the handkerchief, then grinned, “Oh, Devil's Snot." He glanced at the weird seaweed, "Well, other than it's cool lifecycle with Gillyweed, I'm not sure. I can tell you Professor Sprout will be glad you found it. It's completely invasive, but it's been here since the Romans invaded, so there's no getting rid of it. She might actually be able to control it this year, though. Hmm, well, it caries a lot of magical oomph, so potions, maybe?"

“What do you mean?” 

“It's parasitic. It feeds off of the magical energy of various magical plants- particularly freshwater ones.” Neville placed the Gillyweed in a tray and handed it back to her. He blushed, then said, “Gillyweed, in particular. At least in its natural environment in the Mediterranean. When you find the two of them together, you can actually get some interesting side effects.”

"Like what?" said Lavender. 

"It let's you breathe underwater," said Neville, "At least for a bit," 

"Are you shitting me? Would I be able to get some of that for the Second Task?" 

"Maybe? Sure?" Neville looked a bit nervous, but then nodded a bit more confidently, "You know, funnily enough, Moody was talking to me about Gillyweed the other day. Gave me a book about magical plants at the beginning of the year.”

“Really?” said Lavender, narrowing her eyes, “Why?” 

“I dunno,” said Neville, “He said it might come in handy. Where did you find the Devil's Snot? I should tell Professor Sprout.” 

“Eastern side of the lake,” said Ron, “Malfoy and some buddies of his were poking around at it.” 

Neville winced, “Ugh… he’s been acting so weird. I get the feeling he’s just going to snap and murder somebody. He keeps darting around the castle and checking behind his back every five minutes like he’s guilty of something. And today, Crabbe and Goyle kept asking if I needed ‘help’ with anything. Luckily Professor Sprout set them busy with weeding the mandrakes.” 

But Lavender was not paying much attention to Ron and Neville’s conversation. She was busy fretting about Moody, and trying to shove aside the paranoia. No good could come about worrying about what he was up to. There wasn’t much she could do about it without proof.  _ But maybe that’s what I need. But how could I get it? I’d need to sneak into his office somehow. But that would be difficult, to say the least. Pansy is sneaky; maybe I could get her to help me. But how? _

“Lavender?” 

“Yes?” said Lavender, looking around and seeing that they were outside the greenhouses. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing much,” said Lavender, then, “I just… Do you think it’s a bit coincidental? That Moody was talking to Neville about Gillyweed? And if he put my name in the Goblet of Fire, then why would he- I don’t know. It sounds crazy when I say it out loud.” 

“No,” said Ron, wrapping an arm around her, then nuzzling her cheek. Lavender squealed when she felt sweat wipe off on her and scrambled out of his reach. Ron bellowed out another laugh, then grabbed her and twirled her around the castle courtyard for the second time that day. For just a second, Lavender felt like she was at the Yule Ball once again. 

“I love you,” said Lavender breathlessly, leaning into Ron’s chest. She hadn’t said it before the First Task. She hadn’t even mentioned it at the Yule Ball. But here in the courtyard with damp air and bluejays flying about, it seemed the perfect time to say it. 

Ron blushed, his ears turning purple, and he looked away for a moment before he mumbled, “I love you, too,” then bent over to kiss her gently.

Suddenly, there was a flash. Colin Creevey stood in front of them with his camera. 

“That was a good one!” said Colin, “Nearly better than the one I got of Malfoy and Zabini, with Astoria!” As he said this, and small polaroid came out of the camera. Colin grabbed it, then handed it to the two of them, “Here! It’ll take a while for it to develop, and it’s muggle, so it won’t move. But I think it’ll still be a good picture.” 

Ron took it, and the two of them made their way into the castle hand in hand. 

*** 

“What’s in it for me?” 

“The knowledge that you helped a fellow student?” 

Later that day, charts surrounded Lavender as she studied maps of the lake, looking for the quickest route to the mermaid settlement that lived underneath the murky waters of the Black Lake. She was reasonably sure that whatever she was supposed to do had something to do with the mermaids, considering the song quite literally said to seek them out. Across from her, Pansy was leaning back in her chair in the library as Hermione sat and studied, idly flossing her teeth. 

Lavender grimaced, trying not to look too disgusted. 

“Something bothering you?” said Pansy, looking far too pleased with herself, “Good dental hygiene is a must, you know. Hermione’s been telling me all sorts of horror stories about children who don’t floss. Muggles drill into their mouths to fix cavities. Can you believe that?” 

“Yes,” said Hermione, scowling at Pansy, “But we don’t floss in public,” 

“And I don't break into teacher’s offices for free.” said Pansy, then added, “Or at all. After all, I would never even dream of breaking school rules and snooping around other people's things.” 

“But of course not,” said Hermione dryly. 

“I could be convinced, however,” Pansy narrowed her eyes, then sneered, “I need two things. One, I need you to hook me up with the Weasley twins. Draco and Daphne need a charm smuggled into the school, and they refuse to work with us. You sell one lemon, and all of a sudden, you’re the ‘actual devil.’ But, whatever. Two, hmmm…” Pansy stared at her while pondering something for a moment. She looked both ways and behind her, then leaned over the table with a serious look on her face, “What are you doing for Easter break?” 

“Probably going home to spend some time with my parents,” said Lavender.  _ After all, it’ll likely be the last chance I ever get. _

“Wonderful!” said Pansy, “I’d love to come with you. For dinner, at the very least. Easter at my place is always so depressing. Plus, I’d love to meet your mother.”

“I- Alright…” Lavender frowned as Hermione glanced at Pansy suspiciously. 

“One lemon?” Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“It might have been two. Or three. Oh, who remembers?” Pansy smacked her lips, then went back to her idle flossing, much to Lavender and Hermione’s irritation. Lavender got the feeling that the disdain entertained Pansy. 

“Obviously Fred and George,” 

“Whatever,” said Pansy, standing up and preparing to leave,“Let me know what they say. Once they agree to smuggle the charm in, I’ll start planning. It probably won’t be for a few months, however. Moody has more defenses on his office than Snape has on his collection of MILF porn.” She froze then coughed, “Oops, did I say that out loud?” 

“Unfortunately, yes,” said Hermione, slamming her book shut. “The next S.P.E.W. meeting is tomorrow. I’ll let you know what they say then.” 

Pansy beamed, but it didn’t reach her eyes, “Wonderful!” said Pansy, before she hopped off. 

Lavender ran her fingers through her hair, feeling a bit unnerved by how short it still was.  _ Just a few more weeks, _ thought Lavender,  _ Then I should be able to regrow it. I might be able to have it at its old length by the Second Task, even. _

Hermione watched Pansy leave, then mumbled to herself, “Why would she think it’s okay even to say something like that?” 

“Snapes porn preference?” said Lavender, giggling to herself a bit. “Is it surprising?”

Hermione shuddered, then held her hands up. “I don’t want to think about it. But no, not really.” She opened her book once again, then leaned over it. A lock of bushy hair fell and hit the pages before she tied it back out of frustration. 

“Why do you think Pansy would want to have dinner at my place?” said Lavender. 

“No idea,” said Hermione, “But… No, I doubt it.” 

“Doubt what?” 

“It’s nothing,” said Hermione, turning a bit pink. “It’s gossip. I shouldn’t spread it around,” 

At this, Lavender felt herself perking up, “No, please spread it around.” 

Hermione bit her lip, but then leaned over, “Well, Pansy was talking the other day about how your mother and her Aunt Marigold are related. They went to school together. They were even in the same year.” 

“Yes, so?” 

“Well, her aunt is sick. Maybe she wants to connect with her other side of her family.” Hermione narrowed her eyes, “But I doubt it. It’s far too sentimental for Pansy,” 

With a heavy sigh, Lavender agreed. Hours passed and she found the maps surprisingly barren. Soon, supper was upon them, after which the two made their way back to the common room where they found Fred and George with Ron, entertaining a bunch of First and Second Years with Sorrel who was doing tricks. After a few of them, Fred pulled out a hat and passed it around for coins. When Ron saw her, he winked, then gave Sorrel to George, and claimed a spot for her by the fire next to Harry. 

“Hey, I need to talk to Fred and George,” said Lavender, kissing Ron “I need Pansy’s help with some, uh, research, and she wants a charm smuggled in.” 

“Don’t trust that bitch,” said Fred, who overheard them. He crossed the room quickly, “She’s a liar,” 

“I don’t trust her,” said Lavender, “But I need her. Moody-” 

“If you need help breaking in somewhere,” said George, following Fred. He handed Sorrel to Dennis Creevey, who squealed with delight, to which Lavender felt relieved. She thought the rat was lovely, but only from afar. “We can help,” 

“Yes,” said Fred, “Trust us, not some Slytherin snake. We’ll set you right. For the right fee, of course.” 

“I don’t have any money,” said Lavender. 

“Oh, well, that changes things. Well, how much are the baby snakes willing to pay?” 

“No idea,” said Hermione, “But Malfoy is involved, so I imagine it’ll be quite profitable.” 

“Profitable, you say?” said George, “Hmm… Well, Freddie, they sold us those faulty hover charms, so I’m still not sure if I want to go into business with them again.” 

“Ah! But George, this time it’ll be us selling them the item.” Fred crossed his arms then regarded George with a keen eye. George frowned, looking unsure. 

“I dunno, Fred. Doesn’t everyone think it’ll be different right before they get scammed? What if we get paid in fake leprechaun gold, again?” 

The two of them proceeded to converse in whispers while Lavender sat down next to Ron by the fire, watching as Harry glared out the window. 

“Everything okay, Harry?” 

“Oh, fine. Just peachy,” 

Ron winced, “Look mate, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

“Nothing with Malfoy is ever fine. Even Neville thinks he’s off.” Harry growled, tapping the couch’s armrest furiously, “He’s hiding muggle stuff in secret rooms, and walking around acting all paranoid. He’s up to something, and he’s in cahoots with his father-” 

“Well, what if it’s his father he’s hiding it from?” said Ron softly. “I mean, Supposedly Dad was kind of the same way before he moved out of his parent's house. They didn’t exactly approve of-” 

“Ron, he’s evil,” said Harry flatly, leaving no room for argument. “I would think that you, of all people, would back me up on this. Don’t you remember how gleeful he was when Buckeak was about to be executed? Or all the things he said about your family? About Hermione? And now, all of a sudden, he’s all for muggles?” 

“I’m not saying it’s not weird, but-” 

“It’s not just weird, it’s wrong.” Harry stood up and started towards his dorm, “There’s something wrong with this picture, and I’m going to find out what.” He stalked off, and a few moments later, Lavender heard a door slam shut. A few of the common room’s occupants glanced at them curiously before the twins scared the spectators off with a glare. 

“Ron, since Harry is in a tit, what’s your take on the Malfoy situation? Should we go into business with him?” 

Ron slouched and looked like he would rather be anywhere than there. He groaned, then said, “He’s got this hidden room filled with muggle stuff…” 

“So we’ve heard,” 

“I…” Ron sighed, “It sort of reminded me of Dad’s shop. I’m not saying we should trust him, because he’s a slimy worm, but his weird behavior could potentially just be him trying to keep his dad from finding out about his new hobbies.”

Fred and George nodded slowly, then started whispering back and forth. After a few moments, Fred took out a slip of parchment, then started writing various numbers on it. He handed it to Lavender, then said, “Alright, this isn’t concrete, but it’s where we can start. We’ll need the payment for the charm, of course, but we’ll also need payment for any bribes, and of course, our valuable time.” 

Hermione took the parchment, “I’ll let Pansy know at the next S.P.E.W. meeting, and she can give it to Malfoy.” 

***

A few days later, marked the first day of classes after Christmas Break. Lavender woke up early to run with Ron, enjoying the warmth it brought her muscles- even if it did make them quite sore. Later, in Divination, Lavender flicked through her textbook, looking for anything that might help her with finding out Smintheus’s identity. It had hit her that as her relationship with Hermione seemed to be repaired, and she felt ready for the Second Task, she could finally devote some time and energy to figuring out Smintheus’s identity. 

_ Mice and fog? _ _ What on earth could that mean? _ The class passed slowly, and Lavender waited till the class had filtered out for lunch before confronting Professor Trelawney.  _ I probably should have come to her weeks ago. _

“Professor?” said Lavender, approaching her desk after Parvati had left for lunch. She felt like this was something she needed to do alone. 

Trelawney looked up at her, blinking owlishly, “Yes, my dear?” 

“I was wondering if you knew anything about an entity named Smintheus?” 

A strange look flickered over Trelawney’s face, and she cocked her head, “Smintheus?” Trelawney mumbled to herself, “Where on earth did you hear that name?” 

“A dream,” 

“Was there anything else in this dream?” 

“Er…” Lavender paused, wondering how much information she should divulge, “There was a mouse, and a bunch of fog,” 

“Not surprising,” said Trelawney, “Smintheus Apollo, would be his full name,” 

“Apollo?” 

“Yes,” said Trelawney, “Apollo has a lot of animal symbols; wolves and dolphins, to name a few. Mice, though- that one is an odd one.” 

Lavender sat down on an armchair across from Trewlawney’s desk, “Mice? Mice are sacred to Apollo?” 

“Yes,” said Trelawney, she hummed, then said, “Dear, my inner eye is seeing that you’re feeling a bit uncertain at that information.” 

“I just-” Lavender chewed on her lip, “Could you elaborate?” 

“Well, mice were seen by the Ancient Greeks as being ‘inspired by the vapors rising from the earth.’ Many saw them as symbols of prophetic power.” Trelawney stood up and grabbed a teapot, and began to prepare some tea, “Tea, dear?” 

“Please,” 

Trelawney nodded, then grabbed two teacups, “Now, tell me more about this dream,” 

_ What was it that Dumbledore said? That I shouldn’t dwell on these dreams? Does Trelawney count? She is a teacher. And it would feel good to share. _ “I- Well, it’s a bit complicated. I’ve had odd dreams all year. I even saw a python is one of them. It was the night before- before my name was called,” Lavender felt her voice drift off at the end of the sentence, and she clutched her teacup just a little tighter. 

“A python?” Trelawney leaned over, her own teacup forgotten, “What sort of python?” 

“I don’t know.” Lavender shook her head, trying to remember it. All she could remember was it slithering on her bed and licking her ear. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember what it looked like. “It was just a python. It licked my ears.” 

_ This was a mistake, _ thought Lavender, standing up in a rush.  _ Apollo? THE Apollo? I’m not- This can’t be happening. Why on earth would any being, any entity that powerful choose me, of all people, to- to- to… To what? What sort of game is he playing? Is HE why my name was drawn?  _

So deep in thought, Lavender was that she didn’t notice Pansy just beneath Trelawney’s trapdoor, and ran face-first into her. The two of them were knocked clear to the ground, with something clinking on the floor, and a spider crawled across Pansy’s face as Lavender picked herself up. Above her, she could hear Trelawney’s trapdoor opening, and she started off running, feeling her shins cry out in protest as they were sore from the morning run. 

“Shit,” said Pansy in a voice that was far too quiet, “Lavender!” 

Turning the corner, Lavender stopped in front of a window. There, she felt cold air that felt surprisingly nice, despite the chill it brought. Pansy approached her from behind as she took great heaving breaths and collected herself. 

“You dropped this,” said Pansy, holding out her hand. Clutched in thin dextrous fingers was her Adder Stone necklace. The leather cord had broken in a spot weakened by the Horntails flames when they collided. “One second,” Another spider crawled from her sleeve and began spinning silk strands into the cord, repairing the break. Once it had finished, Lavender took it. 

“Thank you,” said Lavender, “Why are you being so nice?” 

“It’s not really in my character, is it?” said Pansy dryly. When Lavender just stared in reply, she shrugged and added, “Let’s just say I got a bit of a wake-up call. And also, I was listening in on your conversation with Trelawney, so I figured I was partially responsible for it breaking.” 

“Oh,” said Lavender. She crossed her arms defensively, feeling a bit irritated that Pansy had been listening in.  _ But I suppose I’m not so innocent of snooping either.  _

“You weren’t lying, were you?” said Pansy, “About- well, the dreams about the what’s his name- Smintheus?” When Lavender shook her head for no, Pansy nodded. “Ah. Grammy was always talking about that stuff. You know, supposedly, she met Arachne once. Most people think she was completely bonkers, but I’d believe it.” As if to prove her point, a black spider with a spider ominous red hourglass on its thorax started dancing on Pansy’s fingers. 

“What do you mean?” said Lavender, eyeing the venomous spider with great caution. “Is it because of, well, whatever you can do with spiders.” 

“Well, that…” said Pansy with a sarcastic tone, “People often do get quite, well fantastic gifts, in every sense of the word when they meet gods. Or goddesses. But those gifts come with a price. One that Grammy paid dearly for. She was able to use the gifts she received from Arachne to make a fortune from spider silk, and raise a family of seven children, but by the end of the war, she lost all but two of those children. And for the cherry on top, just a few years later, my aunt got sick.” 

A gentle breeze came through the window, ruffling Lavender’s hair, and sending a chill down her spine. Or at least she thought the chill was from the breeze.  _ Will that happen to me? I didn’t ask for this. Whatever this is, I want it gone.  _

Pansy took her arm and started to walk Lavender towards the stairwell, “A word of advice, Lavvy; the gods don’t care about you. They don’t care about me. They’ll bring you nothing but pain and heartache. Wear that thing literally all the time.” Pansy pointed to the Adder Stone necklace, “Seriously, whoever gave you that loves you. Like, a lot. They’re rare, and they’re powerful. Now, enough of this. There isn’t anything you can do about it, so there isn’t much use in worrying.” 

“But-” 

“Nope, you’ll just make yourself sick,” Pansy quickened her pace, and soon they were near the Great Hall, “Now, I need your help with the twins,” said Pansy, and approached the Gryffindor table where Lavender saw Parvati working on an egg salad sandwich and sitting with Padma. 

“Parvarti!” shouted Lavender as Pansy dragged her closer to Fred and George, “Padma! Help!” 

“Oh, my god. I’m not kidnapping you,” said Pansy, rolling her eyes. Once she got to the twins, she flopped down on a seat next to them. “That offer was a joke. Literal highway robbery. Neither Draco, nor I am paying you  _ one hundred galleons _ , on top of the cost of the charm to smuggle in a stupid neural networking charm. They’re not even banned. We just don’t want a paper trail that someone could find.” 

Fred snorted, “Exactly. You’re up to something, and if George and I are getting involved, we want proper compensation. Goodbye,”

Lavender sat down, as Parvati and Padma walked over to see what the fuss was about, “Wait a second- a hundred galleons? Come on, that’s quite steep.” 

Fred rolled his eyes, “Fine. Well, Parkinson, what’s your offer?” 

Pansy narrowed her eyes, and sneered, then said “Fifteen galleons,” 

“Ha! Try seventy-five.” 

“Thirty,” 

George whispered something to Fred, who then countered with, “Sixty,” 

“Forty, and not a knut more.” Fred started to argue, but then Pansy continued, “Now you can argue, but remember- we have a lot of gold, and we’ll probably need more things smuggled in. Now, you’re not the only people who can smuggle stuff for us. I’m super duper close friends with Lavvy here, and I’m sure your little brother Ronnie’ll probably be looking for a way to make some gold to spoil his little girlfriend here, and Valentines Day is coming up…” Pansy trailed off, then said, “Doesn’t Potter have a certain map? It seems like that might be useful for smuggling things. Maybe I’ll go to them.” 

“Now wait a moment,” said George, “There’s no need for that. Fred?” 

Fred was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking over the offer. “You drive a hard bargain, Parkinson. But we accept. Forty galleons, plus the cost of the charm, and any additional costs.” 

“I want receipts for the charm, and any ‘additional charges’, please. Pleasure doing business with you!” said Pansy with a wicked grin, before running off to the Slytherin table to sit with Millicent Bulstrode, who was holding a basket of fluffy white mewling kittens. “Toodles!” 

Fred glowered at Lavender, “That is why you don’t do business with Slytherins. Bloody hagglers, the lot of them. ” 

George sighed, “Well, we may as well order the stupid charm. Wonder if Zonkos carries them?” 

“We’ve got an hour till our next class,” said Fred, grumbling to himself, “Let’s go check the catalog. We can pick it up at the Hogsmeade outing next weekend.” 

***

The Hogsmeade outing came and went. There, Lavender saw the odd black dog yet again, though this time, he looked quite thin. Harry stuck to it like glue and even brought it a bag full of breakfast from the castle. When she broke off from the group to browse the shops with Parvati, she could see him talking with the dog, and following it into the nearby forest after the three of them ducked into Dervish and Banges for a few moments. 

“Was that your dog? The thin, black, shaggy one?” Lavender asked Harry when the five of them regrouped later that day. “He seems quite friendly if a bit… odd. Dumbledore might let him stay at the castle if you ask. I’m sure it’ll be safer for him there.” 

“What do you mean, odd?” said Harry suspiciously. 

“I don’t know. There’s something about him that’s off. Undog-like, if you will. I can’t describe it.” 

Harry glared at her, then stomped off without answering. Lavender glared at his turned back, as he stomped through mud and slush on the road back to Hogwarts. She turned to Ron, who was looking torn. “Did I say something to offend him?” 

“He’s just been a bit touchy lately,” said Ron, scratching his neck nervously. “Everything going on with Malfoy has got him in a mood. I’ll talk to him.” 

They ran to catch up, but he had already disappeared.  _ Doesn’t he have an invisibility cloak? _ Lavender resisted the urge to growl in frustration but continued back to the castle. Once there, however, they didn’t need to look far for Harry. They found Harry approaching Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass who were with the Weasley twins, exchanging a bag of what looked like gold for what she could only assume was the ominous neural networking charm. 

When Malfoy saw him, he sneered, then turned to Daphne, “Everything is ready. We just need the charm, and it’s good to go. How about you go insert it? I’ll take care of this joker. I'll meet you at the Hospital Wing later,” Daphne rolled her eyes, but took the charm and left. Meanwhile, Malfoy swaggered up to Harry, puffing out his chest and spreading his arms. 

“Well, Potter? What’s with the stink eye? Did you finally catch a whiff of your failure?” 

Harry bristled, then barked, “The only thing I’m smelling is you, and whatever it is you use to glue your hair to your head. Seriously, are you that desperate to look like your father?” 

There was a moment where Malfoy just stood, gaping like a fish which Ron took to run up to Harry and start to try to pull him away. 

“Got a problem with my father, Potter?” 

“Yeah,” spat Harry, struggling against Ron’s grasp, “He’s an evil git, and you're not much better. You’re up to something. I’ve seen you around the castle- whispering and checking behind you every fifteen minutes like you’ve got something you’re hiding. I don’t care if it’s muggle stuff you’re reading; I know you’re planning something foul, and I’m going to find out what.” 

A rotten look appeared on Malfoy’s face, before he sneered, “Go ahead but don’t think you’re some hero. Only cowards snoop on other people’s private belongings when they’re not there.” 

To Harry’s credit, he turned a bit red from embarresment and stopped struggling against Ron. A few minutes later, once Malfoy had left, and Ron finally had released him, Harry spun around and glared at Ron. 

“I didn’t need you to hold me back,” said Harry, “I could have taken him.” 

“And what would that have solved?” said Ron, “He was baiting you. Just like earlier this year with me. Only this time, he gets you in trouble, and he doesn’t have to worry about you butting in on whatever he needs that charm for.” Ron chewed on his inner cheek, “And maybe you should cool it anyways,” 

“What?” said Harry, shocked, “What the hell does that mean?” 

“It means that I think you should leave Malfoy alone,” said Ron, “He’s not hurting anyone. In fact, for once, he’s actually just minding his own business, and I think we should do the same.” 

Something that resembled genuine hurt flashed across Harry’s face. But it only lasted a second before he shoved it aside with no small amount of effort, “Whatever,” said Harry before turning an about-face, and running off into the castle. 

Ron looked like he wanted run after him, but settled for gazing mournfully at Harry’s turned back. Lavender reached up to hug him, and Ron accepted for a moment, before pushing her away as well and running off in the opposite direction as Harry. 

“It’s okay,” said Hermione, “Knowing Ron, he probably is headed towards the chess club. He hasn’t been an official member for several years now, but they almost always let him play. That always cheers him up.” 

“And Harry?” 

“He probably went up to the Owlery. Seeing Hedwig always cheers him up.” Hermione put an arm over Lavender, “It’s okay. It’s good for them to disagree on things. Clears the air, if you will. I just wish Harry would vocalize what he was thinking more instead of being so- ugh.”

By the end of the night, Harry was still in an awful mood, and the plummeting temperature didn't help. The fire that night was roaring, but it couldn't keep out the chill. While the five of them sat together by the fire, Harry refused to directly speak to Ron- something that very obviously ticked Ron off to no end judging from the glower Ron kept sending him. Whenever he wanted to add something to the conversation, he would talk to Hermione, or occasionally Parvati or Lavender, who passed the awkwardness by fiddling with the Adder Stone charm. 

_ Seamus, _ thought Lavender,  _ Did you know this charm could repel gods? I wasn’t wearing it for a few weeks after the Horntail. That entire time I was in the hospital, nightmares and weird dreams plagued me. Could it be possible that Smintheus- Apollo- can’t contact me if I just wear this? But why would he want to contact me at all? I’m nothing special. _ Unable to come up with any answers, Lavender went to bed, with Ron following her, and kissing her goodnight and hugging her a little tighter than usual before he left towards his dorm. Harry stayed by the fire with Hermione, wrapped up in a tight ball with his arms around his knees, very purposefully not looking at Ron. 

_ Ron seems so down… What if- What if I could use this power to find out for certain what Malfoy is doing? All I’d have to do is take off this charm. Maybe I don’t have a choice in having this ‘gift’, but what if I could take control of it? Ron’s been such a rock throughout this entire ordeal with the Triwizard Tournament, and it’s obvious this fight with Harry is tearing him up inside. If I can do something for him, I need to try. _ With a pounding heart, Lavender pulled off the charm, and set it on her bedside table. 

She closed her eyes, tugged her blankets around her to guard against the cold air, and drifted into sleep. Soon, her sleep turned to dreams, and she found herself walking in a garden with large shrub-like trees. Hyacinths of all colors line the walkways, and she could hear music playing in the distance. Next to her on the right was a pond with a few swans gracing the waters. 

**_ Well, well, well- so the little lion has solved the puzzle. Congratulations. _ **

Darting around, Lavender searched for the source of the voice. It was a swan that was now waddling up to her. 

“Why did you give me the gift of prophecy?” Lavender straightened herself, shoving any doubt or nervousness aside as the swan regarded her with a somewhat oblique expression. If a swan could look oblique, that was. 

**_ I already answered that. _ ** The swan waddled around her. It started to make it’s way back to the pond where it began pecking at the ground. Lavender followed it, wanting to throw something at the swan. Anything. 

“And just what does that mean?” Lavender huffed, and tried to make her admittedly small frame look bigger than it was. 

**_ At our last meeting. Or do you not remember? _ ** The swan blinked at her, then continued,  **_ It is time to wake up now. As a word of advice, remember to listen to the fog.  _ **

“Now wait just a moment,” snarled Lavender, approaching the swan and doing her best to look far more commanding than she was, “You can’t just bring me here, and then-” 

**_ Unfortunately, we will have to cut our meeting short, little lion. Now, wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP! _ ** At its last words, the swan started billowing its wings and honking at her, shocking Lavender into falling backward and flapping her arms this way and that, finally landing a punch on-

“Ouch!” Above her, Hermione nursed her nose as Lavender blinked through her haze of sleep, and shivered as she awoke. The air was bitterly cold, and was that- alarms? 

On the ceiling, flashes of blue light blinked as a high pitched alarm wailed. Parvati sat up on her bed, staring at the lights in confusion as Hermione pulled Lavender from the bed. Suddenly, the door burst open to McGonagall in a velvet mauve dressing gown. She seemed alarmed- almost frightened. 

“Up, girls!” said McGonagall, “Now! Into the common room.” 

“What’s going on?” said Hermione as Lavender slipped her gambeson on over her woolen nightdress, and put on her gloves before wrapping her fluffy purple blanket around her, trying desperately to keep warm. It seemed like the temperature was dropping by the second. 

McGonagall shook her head and began filing the three girls down the spiral staircase. Suddenly, Lavender remembered her charm and tried to go back and grab it. McGonagall, in turn, steered her back down the stairs. 

“Any possessions you need can be collected later.” McGonagall regarded her with a severe frown, smothering any argument. “Right now, get to the common room. Once everyone is there, follow the Prefects and me to the Great Hall.”

Shivering, Lavender walked quickly to the common room with Parvati and Hermione, where they found Ron sitting with Harry and bundled in his Chudley Cannons blanket. Harry was pacing back and forth while reading what looked like an old piece of parchment with a slippery looking cloak draped over his arm. “Do you know what’s happening?” 

“Something to do with Malfoy,” said Harry with a low growl. 

“Harry-” 

“Shove it, Ron,” hissed Harry, then flipped the parchment, revealing a map that showed the Slytherin Dungeons, where Malfoy’s name was shown clearly with several other Slytherins. He, too, was pacing frantically. “Look at him. He’s fretting about something.” 

“Yeah, maybe because the dungeons are the coldest part of the castle, and right now we’re past thirty-two degrees,” said Ron, “The cup of water I keep by my bed was frozen,” 

“Exactly!” said Harry, “Can’t you see it, Ron? LAvender, what do you think?” 

“I-” 

Lavender was saved from answering by McGonagall standing up on a stool so that she could be seen and heard by everyone gathered in the Common Room. “All students are to gather in the Great Hall. There, we can better keep everyone warm, and defend against whatever is causing this temperature fluctuation.” 

“Ron?” whispered Lavender, grabbing his hand, “What could be doing this, if not Malfoy?” 

“Jesus, you’re hands are like ice. And lot’s of things,” said Ron, draping his blanket over Lavender, “Dad used to say that part of the castle’s defense system’s involved binding spirits to the fortifications. It’s the same thing they do when enchanting items, only on a smaller scale. It could be that one of those is going haywire. Of course, it could also be that the ghosts got really, really pissed off. Sometimes they can cause temperature drops.” 

“Not on this scale,” Hermione interjected, as they followed the other students through the portrait hole, “Something’s drawing up massive amounts of energy. More than any ghost could do on its own.” 

“It’s Malfoy,” said Harry, “I’m telling you, it’s him.” 

“Honestly, Harry,” said Hermione, “We’ve been over this-” 

“Actually, Harry might have a point,” said Parvati, “Remember that charm he was smuggling in? Maybe this has something to do with it. It’s an odd coincidence, at least.” 

Soon, they had all arrived at the Great Hall, where blankets and purple sleeping bags were passed out. There it was thankfully much warmer than the rest of the castle, which was so cold that even the portraits were ominously still, and a layer of frost had developed on the stone floor. Near the double doors, Lavender spotted Malfoy who was still obviously nervous and standing with the Greengrass sisters, and Zabini, looking as guilty as sin. Astoria looked paler than normal and was wearing a hospital gown.

“Where is it coldest?” Lavender overheard McGonagall whispering to Dumbledore who was dressed in a marvelously flamboyant dressing gown, “Albus if this is an attack-” 

“Aurora mentioned that the Astronomy tower was below zero degrees when she left it." There was a pause, "I don’t believe it is an attack, Minerva,” said Dumbledore in a grave tone. He glanced at Lavender, who was setting up her sleeping bag with Parvati. They both blushed when the Headmaster caught them eavesdropping. 

“Girls,” said McGonagall sternly, “It’s time for bed.” 

“Yes, Professor,” the two of them replied. As the professors left, Ron, Harry, and Hermione came barreling through with their own sleeping bags. 

“You warm enough, Lav?” said Ron, wrapping his blanket around Lavender again. 

“Yes,” Lavender started to slip into her sleeping bag when she felt a familiar sense of the world slipping away. It was as if some sort of fog had taken up presence in her head. _ Listen to the fog, _ she thought, recalling Sminth- no, Apollo’s words.  _ Didn’t something like this happen when my name was called? I remember- I remember that Fred and Angelina were dancing and laughing, and then that happened in real life. Does that mean that I need to listen for something? Okay, so I just need to sit here quietly and stop fighting it. It might be scary, but I can’t let this go uncontrolled any longer.  _

She closed her eyes, ignoring Ron fretting beside her. She had a feeling it would rewind in a minute anyway. 

Through the fog she heard someone crying. Oddly enough, it sounded like Pansy. 

CRASH! BANG! 

“Draco, RUN!” 

The scream, though halfway expected, was still enough to make Lavender jump. It wasn’t helped by a falling sensation she experienced before she heard Ron say for the second time, “You warm enough, Lav?” 

She stood up, causing Ron to stand with her and Harry to tense warily. He started to fiddle with his velvety cloak. “Yes,” said Lavender, trying to choose her words carefully,  _ The curse. If I warn them, they won’t believe me.  _

“Professor!” it was Pansy, he face wet with tears as she tugged on Dumbledore’s robe, whilst sobbing, “Please! It’s Daphne, I think she’s still outside!” 

_ Wait that can’t be. I just saw her with Malfoy.  _ Lavender tensed and glanced at Malfoy, who was quivering, either from cold or nerves. 

“Ms. Parkinson, I’ve spoken with Professor Snape myself. He’s assured me that all of his students made it to the Great Hall-” But Pansy just shook her head and broke down crying. 

“She was upset because Astoria's been ill,” said Pansy, “She stepped out of the dorm room, and- and-” she sobbed some more, “When Snape came, I disguised her bed to make it look like she was still in the dorm, and covered for her so that she wouldn’t get in trouble. I didn’t think-” 

Dumbledore took on a grave face and visibly paled. All of a sudden, he stepped towards the doors and held out his hands. The double doors stuck for a moment, then- 

CRASH! Ice, three inches thick, broke away from the outside of the Great Hall's entrance, as the double doors broke free of their holdings. 

BANG! As they hit the wall, a transformation took over Pansy’s face, revealing her real motive. 

“Draco, RUN!” screamed Pansy, and Draco took off like a bullet. Immediately, Harry followed him, slipping his map in his pocket while throwing on the slippery cloak-

_ Oh, it’s his invisibility cloak. _ Dumbstruck, Lavender stared for a moment, almost missing her opportunity. But she took off after Harry and Malfoy.  _ Harry helped me with Hagrid. As little as the mirror trick helped, I’d have been defenseless out there without it. I won’t let him go out there alone.  _

“Lavender, wait! Hermione, let me go!” She heard Parvati screaming at her as she dropped her blankets and raced after Harry, “Ron, go after her, please!” 

The teachers, too, were scrambling as they attempted to close the doors once they realized that it was all a ruse. But it was too late. Lavender was already out the door. She started following Malfoy and Harry’s footprints before she felt someone gently grab her arm. She turned around as the doors slammed closed. Ron, had managed to get out.

“Lavender, it’s too cold out here,” said Ron, keeping his Chudley Cannons blanket tight around him, “Please, we need to go back inside.” 

“And what about Harry?” 

“The teachers will get him,” said Ron, “Malfoy, too,” 

“And who will they send?” Lavender wrenched her arm away, and began running to try to fend off the cold, making Ron run as well to catch up, “Dumbledore will probably send Moody, and he was the one who put my name in the goblet- don’t make that face!” 

“I didn’t- Ergh, Lav, please!” Ron reluctantly followed her. “Where are we even going?”

“The Astronomy Tower!”

Getting to the Astronomy Tower was difficult. The stone floor was slippery, and the higher in the castle they climbed, the colder it became. Wind, too, was howling through the corridors, forming giant icicles on the walls. Once they approached the Astronomy Tower, the ice was so thick that, Lavender was forced to stop running, and practically crawl across the icy floor, shivering and desperate for warmth. Ron tried to pull her into his blanket, but she shrugged him off. It might help fend off the cold, but maneuvering would be tricky while wrapped in Ron’s arms. As she crawled, she bumped into an invisible figure- Harry. 

“Harry?” said Lavender, pulling down the hood of Harry’s cloak. His nose was purple, and he was breathing into his hands for warmth. 

“Lav, what’re you doing here? Ron?” Harry blinked as he took in the two of them. 

“You fucking idiot!” said Ron, shivering, “We’re rescuing you, of course! Where’s Malfoy?” 

Harry shakily pointed upwards, then the map, “H’s’not moving. Ron, I think I fucked up.” 

Ron threw his blanket over Harry, “S’okay, mate. Come on, let’s go get Malfoy.” 

With great effort, Harry threw an arm over Ron, and the three of them made their way against the wind and ice, and up the stairs. Once they found their way to the top, they found Malfoy huddled at Sinistra’s office door. His fingers were blue, with bits of ice forming on them. As if on instinct, Harry broke away from Ron, and ran to Malfoy, grabbing his arm and pulling it over his shoulder. Through the wind, Lavender could hear him groggily say a few select curses, but he seemed to accept the assistance. 

Surprisingly, when Harry began to pull Malfoy towards the stairs, Malfoy pulled out of Harry’s grasp. 

“Telescope!” gasped Malfoy, pointing a shaking hand at Sinistra’s office, “We need to turn it off. I don’t know how, but I think it’s causing this-” He gestured at the ice. 

Without thinking, Harry tried to open the office door, but it stayed stuck. “It’s not opening,”

“It opens inwards,” said Malfoy, grasping the handle with both his hands, “If we all push on it, it might work. But I can barely hold onto the handle. My fingers aren’t working properly.” 

“On three,” said Harry as Ron moved backward, preparing to bum rush the door. “One, two, three!” 

Harry and Malfoy pushed on the door, while Ron and Lavender both shoved it. The combined force seemed to break whatever icy seal had formed, and they tumbled into the office, landing in a heap on the floor. Weakly, Lavender blinked at the strange telescope that had taken up residence in the small office. It was hooked up to what could only be described as some sort of machine. The machine was glowing and connected to the Neural Networking charm, as well as a dirty and empty tank.

Most stunning of all, however, was the projected image of a planet that Lavender didn’t recognize. But it was blue, and green, much like earth, with wispy clouds covering its atmosphere, and ice and snow at its poles. 

Malfoy was the first to struggle to his feet, and Harry soon followed him. Together they pulled themselves towards a switch on the side on the machine and flipped it. Within seconds, the engine turned off, and the freezing wind died. 

Behind them, Lavender heard footsteps and saw McGonagall running up the stairs at breakneck speed, closesly followed by Moody and Dumbledore, as well as Snape. 

“Ron?” she mumbled, not hearing a response. Numbly, she felt for Ron’s hand that felt like ice.  _ Pansy’s grandmother lost nearly all her children. Who will I lose? Oh, what have I done? _ Without thinking, she slipped off her gloves and put it on his hands. It didn’t quite fit, but she shoved his hands under her armpits, trying to warm them as McGonagall swarmed the two of them. “Ron? Ron, wake up. Please, please, please, wake up.” 

“Lav? Did we do it?” 

Feeling relief wash over her, Lavender glanced at Harry, who was sitting against the machine and staring at Ron with relief mixed with worry. Malfoy looked unconscious and was leaning against Harry's shoulder. Distantly, she could hear McGonagall scolding them as she flicked her wand, producing flames that danced in the air and brought warmth into the icy room.

“Yes, I think we did it,” 

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a Reddit prompt of HPFanfiction where Lavender's name is pulled out of the Goblet of Fire instead of Harry's.
> 
> I would like to thank my lovely betas: PenguinofProse, and Bae_Before_Bay. You have been so wonderful and I'm so grateful for your help with this project. 
> 
> Also, while I love fff.net, I love AO3 in that I can post my artwork too. It makes me a very happy fangirl.


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